Dear Miss Esmé,
You are a kid.
Me (bleary-eyed, ready for the week to end, and grasping for inspiration): What’s a word starting with “K” that describes you?
Esmé (without missing a beat): Kid!
Me (thinking I’ll let her play on my Scrabble team): OK, I’ll go with that. So, what makes you a kid?
Esmé: I’ve got parents.
Me (thinking I’ll get a biological answer of some sort): And why do you need parents in order to be a kid?
Esmé: So I can obey God!
I guess it would be kind of hard to follow God’s instructions to “obey your parents in the Lord” if you didn’t have any parents. We trained you well, I think.
Okay then, beautiful kid: honor your mamma and dad – that you may live a really long life…
And stop waking me up at 6 a.m. on weekend mornings – so I can be around for a while longer myself?
I love you, my amazing, beautiful, clever, dilly-dallying, energized, following, grace-filled, hidden, indomitable, Jericho-miracle, kidlet baby girl!
Each birthday, I write a letter to my baby girl. This year, the year of the amazing 5-year-mark, I’ll be working from A to Z.