Born on the fourth of July, you surprised me. I was pulling for 07/07/07 and based on your brother’s late arrival I was planning on something closer to July 20. I still intend to write more details of your birth day on this blog, because some people are interested in the way you were born, but not today. And I’m sure you don’t want to hear about it.
When I told you recently how you came out of my tummy (your brother asked), you said, “No! I don’t want to do that!” Too late, sister. You already did it.
And now you are a big girl. A girl who is really good at climbing, really good at imitating her parents and teachers, and who idolizes her brother.
We call you “party girl” because you love to have a good time. You frequently fall down on the floor laughing. And if something is funny once, you’ll do it over and over again, maximizing the joy from each experience. One day, you’ll wear a lampshade on your head, that’s for sure.
You can be sullen, too. When you pout, it is dramatic. You don’t like loud noises, especially public toilets and when people sing Happy Birthday and clap at the end as they always seem to do. You get anxious about birthday parties hours before they start. At your party at pre-school, everyone agreed to have the singing and clapping be very very quiet. You spent most of the time crying in the other room, regardless.
Your voice is super loud. Every night after bedtime, your dad and I hear your chatter all the way through the house. You are filled with excuses for why you can’t go to sleep. You are too hot; you need water; you need your back scratched. I think you sound like an actress in Annie. I can imagine you belting out “It’s a Hard Knock Life,” your voice projecting all the way to the back of the theater.
You just went camping with your grandparents for three days. When you came home, you told me about caterpillars, marshmallows, and how you love to go in the creek, but Grandpa Rick thinks it’s too cold. You also talked about the people you met on your trip. This did not surprise me. After you meet someone, you often talk about them for days, sometimes mentioning the name of a child you played with for five minutes, months after the encounter. Your mind is a steel trap.
Whatever you become, and right now you claim it will be a doctor who works in a restaurant, I know your special spark will take you exactly where you want to go. And I will be so proud.
Happy birthday, Scarlett! I love you.
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