Today is her birthday, but it’s not like she’d come right out and remind us if we forgot. She’s a deep well, keeping her own counsel on a lot of things. So she might casually ask what today is so we’d have to stop and think about it. Or she’d leave a cake mix out on the counter. Or she’d “like” a lot of birthday stuff on Facebook so it would show up on our feed. And when the hints took and we’d remember, she’d smile smugly.
She’s a big fan of Marvel—she knows practically any trivia about practically any major character. She developed her own trademark style—always a ponytail, always the baseball cap, always the denim cape she made out of a frumpy dress (except for church, when it’s just the ponytail). Somewhat to our surprise, she got my storytelling gene—but she channels it into quirky graphic novels instead of plain words on a page. She’s a good household lieutenant—she can take charge and oversee simple meals, but she doesn’t boss siblings around just for her own satisfaction.
She loves her bunny in the same undemanding way that the bunny loves her. And like the bunny, she has a personal space of about a fifty-foot radius; several times a day has to fend off affectionate siblings who alternately love her and like to get a rise out of her.
My guess is that she’s going to spend her day the way she likes best: drawing, reading, and browsing endless pages of Pinterest, Tumblr, and Facebook.
And we get to spend our day with our oldest, who (much to our astonishment–when did this happen?) is fifteen years old today.
We love you, Bookgirl!