When I grow up

Emmie was having a chat with her Papa via MSN the other night when he asked her the most common question we tend to throw at  unsuspecting little people…

What do you want to be when you grow up?

Well bless her little boots, even I still haven’t figured that one out at the ripe old age of 28 and three quarters. I eagerly awaited her response. She thought  about it and replied,

I want to be a painter.

Well I just beamed. Who needs doctors, lawyers, or teachers, oh my?! I am the proud parent of a budding artiste. Who also happens to be a ballerina in training I should add. Last Saturday marked her very first day of dance class  and it was delightful.

My Emmie. My little mystery. Half the fun and half the fear of  being a parent is not knowing exactly what the future holds for your child. The brave part of being a parent is having the faith to carry on loving and  nurturing them in spite of this.


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