WILD ONES.

 When I met Timmy, he was wild. Marvelously so. He dreamed of climbing mountains and jumping off cliffs. He was loud and intense and passionate and unstoppable. I said "Oh no! Please don't climb that!" and I said "That's dangerous!" and I said "You're going to hurt yourself!" many, many times. 

When I look into my daughter's eyes, I see Timmy. She is wild. Beautifully so. She dreams of climbing the piano and jumping off chairs. She is loud and dramatic and passionate and stubborn. I say "Don't climb that!" and I say "That's danger!" and I say "You're going to get hurt." many, many times.

They still climb. And when one obstacle is conquered, they look ever higher to the next. And the next. When they are together all I hear is squeals and screams and giggling. 

And tears, of course, because I'm usually right with my admonitions.

But even still, I'm glad that our daughter was born with the heart of her father. She is brave and she is sweet and she is mine.