Miss M celebrated six years on this here planet Earth on Friday.
We let her sleep late and hang out at home, where she devoured Ramona Quimby, Age 8 (a gift from my mother) as we grilled chicken and vegetables for Shabbat. She ate French Toast at her birthday breakfast, rapturous over the inclusion of both powdered sugar and maple syrup. (Aroma outdoes me AGAIN.) We rounded out the morning with buying her a bike.
Then, in typical fashion, she spent the afternoon trying to escape the straightening and cleaning tasks* we asked of her, wearing our patience thin and losing her bike privileges. Ah, Friday.
But there are glimmers of hope that “Abba and Ema’s Lifetime Boot Camp–Learning to Be a Decent Person” is paying off. We were invited for a Shabbat meal Chez AliyahbyAccident; as we departed, she turned to Gila and said brightly, “Thank you for having us!” I actually confirmed that Taxman had not told her to say it. Then I (mock) fainted. With pride, of course.
And although she crowed, “I’m halfway to my Bat Mitzvah!” she is taking the growing up thing slowly. Thank goodness. We’re going to need at least another six years to try to figure her out.
* Nothing she can’t handle. Putting on pillowcases, returning books to the shelves, emptying the bathroom trash, etc.