The Parson's Daughter is now Twenty. Today. That's freaky.
Pardon me for reminiscing, but I happen to remember July 10, 1990 pretty vividly. It was a very long night the night before and a very long day. Eighteen hours of pretty intense labor if you want me to be specific. The doctor sort of played it out her way because she wanted to get in a full day's work. Tweren't pleasant, no indeed. I never went back to that doctor and still don't care for her very much.
She arrived weighing 6 pounds, 4 ounces, and was 19 inches long. She had my nose and my mouth. She has since got her own.
She's twenty.
She's beautiful and smart, gifted and passionate. She loves God, kids, and the Philippines. She doesn't keep her room clean all the time, but that's okay. She will one day. I didn't keep it clean all the time when it was my room, either...
She is so funny. She can do Madea like nobody's business. She makes us all laugh so hard.
She can get in a bad mood now and then, but just show me somebody who doesn't! Now come on!
She is still searching about for her future, but if it plays off of her past, she's in good shape. She has learned how to smile when she's freaking out inside. She has learned how to love those who do her wrong and hold her head up and know that God will take care of it and she doesn't have to. Even at twenty, she has learned that time usually brings everything out and she doesn't have to fight to be heard or to tell her side.
She has learned the meaning of PK all by herself and she's making it a beautiful picture.
Scuse me for bragging, but it's my blog and my daughter, so I guess I can.
She's Twenty.
I couldn't have asked for a better one if I would have hand-picked her myself.
Happy Birthday to my roofus!
