She cannot run. And catching a ball is so very, very difficult. Not like her Dad at all.
But she can dance. Little ballerina - all of 9 years old. Gets totally lost in the music, feel the music, dance to the music, be the music. She lights the place up when she does that. She often does it at home. Seen her do it in a packed restaurant too - "because I felt like it". People stop to look, wonder, slowly begin to smile and then they light up too. There's magic in the air for the rest of the evening.
And she can talk. Don't quite know where it comes from, but she believes that she's got to do at least 50,000 words a day. And make 20 new friends every week. And make sure that everybody else is OK.
The bluest of blue eyes. She brings warmth, happiness, sunshine and a little bit of magic wherever she goes. It touches everybody around her. Without trying to do so. Always.
Not like her Dad at all.
Makes me very, very proud.