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).
