Mini Me

She is my mini-me.

At eight years old:

She looks like me.

Walks like me.

Talks like me.

Has my personality.

Has my humor.

Has my goofiness.

Has my heart.

And right now, she is All.About.Me.

Every morning: by my side.

Helps me make breakfast.

Constantly asks me to teach her how.

Every afternoon: by my side.

Needing homework help.

Reading to me.

Begging me to ride bikes.

Or play Barbies.

She has even gone to the point of setting her alarm for half an hour early

just to spend time with me. It honors me. It humbles me.

I asked her one night before bed, "Squirt, what would you say if someone told you that you are just like me?" (Because often I am told this).

And she replied, eyes wide open, "I would think that's great!"

"Why?" I asked.

"Because you're FUNNY!" she stated.

*sigh*

She is a deep reflection into me. I see myself with new eyes

as I watch her grow.

She is tickled at the same things I am.

She is hurt by the same things I am.

She is motivated by the same things I am.

And as we walk anywhere - Walmart, the park, into church - and she reaches for my hand, I treasure that precious little girl, my mini-me, walking alongside.

There will more than likely come a time,

sooner than later I fear,

when this mini-me rejects our similitude.

And I will be ready.

It's natural and to be expected.

But, while I have this connection, I will treasure it.

I blogged about the boy-child on his birthday.

You may ask, why not blog about the girl-child on her birthday?

And I simply think,

Why wait?