I looked in the rear view mirror this morning and saw my sweet little Bay-Bay singing with her eyes closed. She wasn't belting out the lyrics (as she usually does). Her voice was quiet and her face was still as she sang along to Tim McGraw's "My Little Girl."
My heart seized up. I don't know what I did to deserve this fiesty-soft little creature with her flashing eyes and super-star smile. This morning she sang "Firework" to me while I brushed her hair and then threatened to cut my fingers off when I took away Javi's favorite toy.
I kept watching her sing, watched her feel the music and fumble with the words. And then she opened her eyes and laughed and said, "My daddy sure does sing me some good songs!" And I laughed with her.
This girl is a gift I don't deserve. She's perfect and stubborn and completely full of herself and mine. My billy goat mountain girl. My fart-joke-loving belly-always-out such-a-little-sister. My tiny blonde warrior.
My heart and soul.