And Now We Are Six

Six feels big, doesn't it? Like the entryway to Big Kidland, like the door closing forever on the soft, endless days of babyhood. And here we are, with my youngest child suddenly and all at once six years old.

WELL.

She's a great kid - you'd probably think so too if you knew her, unless you are really no fun - lippy and hilarious and affectionate and full of Clever Schemes. For example: she recently lost her first tooth and was very pleased to find FIVE DOLLARS from the Tooth Fairy the next morning.

"As soon as I find the hammer, I'm going to be RICH!" she announced cheerfully to her big sister.

"How's that?" asked her big sister, in the barely-interested manner that only nearly-12-year olds can pull off.

"That's between me and the Tooth Fairy," she said, airily.

She wears outfits of outstanding, eye-searing colourfulness. She hates injustice and stands up fearlessly to anyone she thinks is pushing someone smaller around, even though she's impossibly tiny herself. Nightmares send her dashing to my bed, clinging to me in her sleep like a tree frog (She told me once "I thought if my dream scared me THAT bad, I'd better go check mom out. You're more easily frightened."). She is at once shockingly clever and heartbreakingly vulnerable, spoiled beyond telling and yet generous to a fault, able to throw herself into anything with wholehearted uninhibited zeal and such a good, good little girl. You would love her if you met her. And today she is six. Six!