|Beth:||[age 4] "Let's play a game."|
|Me:||"Okay. What do you want to play?"|
|Beth:||"Let's play that aliens are attacking us. And we're tigers who have to fight them. And I'm your sidekick."|
|Me:||"That sounds cool. Do we have names?"|
|Beth:||"Yes! Your name is Azore."|
|Me:||"Azore... that sounds cool. So what's your name?"|
|Me:||"Scratchypants? My sidekick's name is Scratchypants?"|
|Beth:||"If this is going to be a problem, then maybe you should find a new sidekick."|
— Beth, age 4, while holding a bite of french toast on the end of her fork above her head like a champion’s Olympic torch. She then devoured it and began cackling maniacally.
— Beth, age 4, trying to convince me to not pull up a dandelion
— Beth, age 4
I really loved this letter because it is so true. And it’s relevant not only as future advice to little girls, but it is present advice to big girls. I hope I can convey these messages to Harper as she grows.
“Little One, it is not, has never been, and never will be your job to ‘keep him interested’ … your only task is to know deeply in your soul — in that unshakeable place that isn’t rattled by rejection and loss and ego — that you are worthy of interest.” Amen!