|Yep, that's my "adult" daughter in her footie pajamas.|
Can you believe it?
Heck with you guys - I don't quite believe it. The little girl who once (once, who am I kidding?) laid her hand ever-so-gently on her Grandpa Tom's arm, batted her hazel eyes, and said, "But, Grandpa, you're so strong, you can get them for me!" as she pointed at the cookies on top of the fridge after being told no she couldn't have any, is now nineteen.
This weekend, while baking, Auto Bot asked Ashinator how old she was going to be. When Ashinator told her nineteen, Auto Bot made Ashee's day by exclaiming, "You're an adult!"
Poor Ashinator. Today her aunt dropped of a birthday gift card to a grocery store and Ash was thrilled! At first. Then she realized how pathetic it was to get excited over a gift card to a grocery store - even if it meant she could now afford the ingredients for her birthday tacos. Welcome to being an "adult", Ashinator.
When I was her age, I was newly married (just a month) to a man who turned out to be an alcoholic and who has a horrible inherited disease that he passed on to the kids. While I wish she had a job and was truly living on her own, instead of with my dad, I'm thrilled that she's not in the same place I was at her age.
Happy birthday, Ashinator!
And thank you for not doing to me what I did to my mother :)
Love you, Pretty Girl.