Happy Birthday, sweet little girl.

You're 8 years old today, and you're changing so quickly I can hardly keep up.

You are smart... top of your class. You are so beautiful, although it is clear you don't realize it. Your giggle is infectious, as is that devilish gleam in your eyes. You're independent most times; clingy at others. Sweet as can be, with the wry power of observation of one with many more years and experiences under their belt.

You have all the best qualities of your mother and your father: Her bs-detector; his loyalty and generosity. Her powers of persuasion; his rational reasoning skills. Both of their smarts, and both of their arguing skills; God help anyone on the wrong side of an argument with you.

You've opened up doors in my heart I never knew existed. The years tick by in my head: Holding you at age one as you fell asleep on my chest. Watching you as a toddler dance the Soul Bossa Nova along with Austin Powers in the opening scene of Goldmember and recite half of the lines as they were spoken... laughing so hard I cried. Sitting out on the tailgate of the truck in the driveway, watching you and your best friend tool around the cul-de-sac in your badass little Jeep. Mending scraped knees... and scraped feelings. Being the recipient of your homemade cards with the sweetest sentiments written by you; first in huge, blocky print, then neat big-girl print, and finally cursive. Heartbreak as I see you compare yourself to others and find yourself wanting. How could you? You're perfect.

You're exactly what I'd want if I had a little girl of my own, and I'm honored to have you on loaner and to be part of your extended family.

Happy Birthday, sweet little girl. Love you.