Happy Birthday, Ella

Six years ago today, you made me a daddy. Anyone who says there is no such thing as love at first sight wasn’t there when you were born. My heart melted the first time I saw your face. You had me at hello. And even though I watched you change colors 16 times in the first two minutes of your life, I thought you were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

You started a new chapter in my life that was infinitely more enjoyable than the previous chapters. I haven’t experienced a dull moment in the past six years. You’re the one who stumps me with questions like, “Daddy, how do you eat ice cream if you don’t have a tongue?” and “Daddy, do mosquitos like music?

You keep me on my toes with questions like, “Daddy, can you drive faster so I don’t poop my panties?”

You show you are concerned about social etiquette when you ask, “Daddy, do you have to say excuse me if you toot in the bathroom?”

Your scientific curiosity never ends when you ask, “Daddy is there gravity in water?”

“Yes, sweetheart, there is gravity in water.”

“Then how do ducks float? you ask your daddy who was not prepared to explain buoyancy and displacement to a five-year-old.

You take songs that are a staple of childhood and make them more interesting with your version. Take, for example, “Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes. And Vagina.” I have no idea where you came up with that addition to that children’s classic, and I’m never going to ask.

Your steel trap memory keeps me honest. “Daddy, you promised last night that if I went to bed on time I could have chocolate cake for breakfast.” Yep, I did promise. And you had chocolate cake for breakfast.

You make me proud when I hear that a boy in your class got in trouble for talking in the lunch line, and you went up to your teacher later and said, “Mrs. Kloub, I was the one who was talking. I’m the one who should be in trouble.” Your honesty won’t help your poker game, but at least I know you’ll never be a politician.

I would totally understand if you harbored some resentment toward Audrey because she will always get more attention than you, but you do the exact opposite. Nobody shows Audrey more love than her big sister. You are the proudest big sister and love introducing everyone to Audrey, even when that person is a stranger at the mall walking in the opposite direction.

You are only six, but you have never met a stranger. You will walk up to anyone, introduce yourself, and start a conversation. It doesn’t even matter when that someone is the school Principal at the school picnic when he is talking on his cell phone. We will work on the social awareness skills later, but for now, I applaud your bold spirit.

And I have to thank you because I never wrote anything meaningful until I met you, and you give me so much great material that I don’t think I’m ever going to stop writing.

Happy Birthday, Ella!