Dec 7, 2005

Happy 17th Birthday Goth daughter!

A tower of chocolate cake and a bundle of red roses for you Elizabeth!Today is a special day here at Flubberwinkle-land. We are celebrating my first-born's 17th birthday. Yup, 17. A year after her sweet 16 and a year before the "official" 18.

Old Greek proverb says: "mother owl thinks her owlet is the most beautiful owlet in the forest" (I'm guessing all owlets are little ugly fuzzy-wuzzy critters). In layman's terms the above saying means: "every mother thinks her child is unique and gorgeous". And I'm no exception.

I love my daughter's singularity, her determination and her incredible sense of humor. She is tough, yet fragile. She is naive, yet smart-alecky enough to hold her own. She is daring, yet principled. She is trying to find her bearings in this world. She is trying to make her mark. She is a teen-ager on the threshold of young adulthood.

She makes me want to be a better person in this life. And no matter how many presents I give her I can never repay her for the joy and wisdom she has given me.

Happy Birthday Goth daughter!

P.S. 17 years ago today the auto-pilot ("just-Athena") was switched to manual controls labeled: "Hey-Mom!"
Oh, yeah, and lest I forget: 17 years ago I found out why they call them labor pains. (Ouch!)
These pics are dedicated to the eldest of my offspring (a.k.a. Wednesday Adams). (Gomez/Daddy says Hello).

It's quite possible you are Goth if pastels give you hives! It's quite possible you are Goth if all your thesis projects are about Tim Burton.
It's quite possible you are Goth if the sun worries you. It's quite possible you are Goth if pop music makes you nauseous