Happy birthday! It is hard to believe you are four! I decided that I wanted to write down just a few of the things that I love about the four-year-old you. Honestly, it is hard to just pick a few. You're a very lovable little girl (but I'm a bit biased on the subject).
I love that you always have a song in your heart. I can't remember the last day that went by when I didn't hear you singing. You sing to us, you sing to your toys, you sing to yourself... you sing when you're happy, you sing when you're bored, you even sing when you're in the bathroom. Sometimes it is a song that we all know, and often you are just making it up as you go.
I love that you think the world has a giant invisible Pause button that you can use when you need to. Out of the blue, you'll just shout "Pause!" and make a motion like you're pressing a giant button, run out of the room to do whatever you need to do, then run back in, and press the button again, shout "Unpause!", and pick right up where you left off.
I love that you love books. If you could get me to sit still long enough, you'd have me read every book in the house to you. And you desperately want to read by yourself. You'll spend half an hour paging through one of Ben's chapter books on your own, just looking at any pictures that are there. Or you'll get one of your own books and "read" the story out loud to yourself. I can't wait until you're reading on your own.
I love your sense of humor. It's like two parts "innocent kidspeak" mixed with three parts "goofy oddball", and delivered with impeccable comedic timing. You know just the right moment to cross your eyes or make a goofy face, and on the rare occasions when you've decided that your bellybutton should join the conversation, it's seemed like a natural choice. You're in that 2-5 age zone, where half of what you say is just cute or funny anyway. An example... the other day you were being particularly goofy. Mother (that's what you call her sometimes, when you are acting all grown-up) said to you "Penelope, you're so stinkin' cute!" You put your hands on your hips, your angry face on, and said very indignantly, "No I'm not! I took a bath!"
Well all right, then. If you insist.
And of course, I love that you love me too. The big hug you give my shins when I get home is a highlight of many days. I realize that some of these things are true to who you'll be a year from now or two, five ten etc., while others belong to the realm of "kid things" that will fade with time. Which is which doesn't really matter, but I hope that at least the shin hugs persist for a while.
Love,
-Daddy (a.k.a. Father)
