Maybe if I just open the page and start writing, the words will flow out.  Something about how the wind caresses your hair and I can’t help but stare because I’m in awe of your beauty.  Or maybe something about the sun on your cheeks when your smile peaks and you glisten, simply glisten in your pure innocence.  My love, you shine brighter than the rays from that glowing orb of light when you tell us about the solar system from some lecture you heard once.  Our jaws drop as you tell us about the planet with the lightening spot and how Neptune is cold and Mars is hot.  Then you squeak and scream ‘ACORN’ and I remember you’re four, but you’re growing up quickly and it terrifies me so.

Then I watch as you sit, donning your ladybug Halloween costume from two years ago glued to The Avengers cartoon that captivates you.  Then you shout as you reappear, sporting Batman pajamas before you play with your my little pony dolls. And you laugh, head thrown back, full bellied laugh because you made a joke that you thought was hilarious.  I call you weird and tell you not to change, then you lick my face and flit away. 

Just another day.

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