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Here’s the story… when Sous Chef was a little girl, I used to make her cry. I guess you could say I intentionally made her cry if you understand “intention” to mean doing something that you know will cause a specific result. I would tell her how great a daughter she was, and then how terrible a daughter she was like this:
“You’re the nicest daughter I ever had; you’re the meanest daughter I ever had.”
“You’re the smartest daughter I ever had; you’re the least smart daughter I ever had.”
“You’re prettiest daughter I ever had; you’re the ugliest daughter I ever had.”
But, here are the facts:
She’s the nicest daughter of any family I know.
She’s the smartest daughter I could ever hope to have.
She’s amazingly beautiful (see below).
And she’s leaving home… it’s coming. Each passing day leads inexorably to one place: a house without Sous Chef. Today is just another sign post on the journey. It’s Sous Chef’s 17th birthday and I hope it’s a great one.
I love you, Sous Chef and wish I was in town with you today. Happy, happy, happy birthday!