I watched them for a few seconds and marveled over how that tall, gangly, beautiful young lady is the same little girl who wore sprout-like pigtails and ate chocolate pudding with her hands and stopped every few feet during walks to pick "fudgers".
I blinked, and here she is, half-grown. I could be sad; I know a lot of people would. But I'm so honored to be her mom that I can't be upset. After all, that pudding-eating, flower-picking, pigtail-wearing little girl is still in there; she's just more complex and more amazing than ever before.
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