My house backs up to thick woods which right now glow with the fire of fall colors. The beauty of living in the dirty south is that on a crisp fall day it's just cool enough to whisper autumn but fair enough to soak the outside world in sunlit warmth.
Exhibit A and I sat on the deck this afternoon sipping hot, spiced cider and talking about everything and nothing all at once.
As her words started to flow she opened up to me more and more and for the first time ever, there was talk of... a boy.
She likes a boy but she doesn't know his name. He is tall and has strawberry blonde hair. I asked her if she'd just seen him from afar and thought he was cute and she looked at me like I have three heads then went on to explain...
She was in the hallway trying to get from one class to the next and a few things dropped from her locker. The boy was passing by and stopped to help her. He picked up what dropped and handed it to her with a smile.
The measure of a man is not so much in his looks or even in his words, but in his actions. I've tried to model a life of action for my children and explain to them what matters most. How happy I am that my daughter has already started to figure out what took me years and years to understand.