I am good at laughter.
I am great at angry.
I am fairly good at sarcasm.
I am not sentimental.
Sentimental in the dictionary said "expressive of or appealing to sentiment, especially the tender emotions and feelings". Not me. I'm not touchy feely. No hugs. I just can't do it.
The weirdest thing happened. Along came Taylor Swift. Young, little, pop/country gal. Maisie and I went to her concert on Saturday in Detroit. Maisie didn't know we were going, I've kept it a secret since January. We drove to Windsor on Saturday afternoon to stay in a hotel. Maisie thought her and I were going for dinner, just the two of us, in Detroit. Just before we left the hotel, Cam and I sat her down. I say to her, "there's something else we need to tell you". In true Maisie fashion she replies, "Oh, are you pregnant?" Um, no. Well, you can only imagine her reaction to the real news. Jumping, screaming etc.
The show itself was great. Definitely better than I expected. I would highly recommend. But, that's not my story.
Mid-way through the show, I look over at Maisie and just stare.
She's mine.
She's growing up. Too fast.
She knew every word, to every song. She sang them all, loud and proud. Something came over me.
Tears.
I have three of the most beautiful girls you've ever seen. I want to soak up every moment of them. Every breath. Every memory. The good, the bad, all of it.
Now look at this....Can you believe this is eight years old?
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