Dear Charlotte,
At lunchtime tomorrow, you will have been alive for 13 years.
That is:
- 156 months of your Mum watching you sleep;
- 678 weeks of your Dad making you laugh at fart jokes;
- 4,748 days of you leaving your stinky socks on the floor;
- 113,956 hours your parents have watched over you, marvelling at the person you have become; or,
- 6,837,340 seconds we've had to wait for you to arrive at the front door, ready to go—and counting!
As your parents, it is our right to tell you what to do. It's how we prepare you for the world. As a teenager, it is your duty to yell, "In a second!" and then stare at the nonsense on your phone and completely ignore what we tell you anyway.
You'll figure it out. You've already got everything you need to succeed in the world. All you need is your quirky sense of humour and to continue to lead with kindness.
You are about the begin the first of your seven teenage years. Enjoy this time in your life, mate. Turmultuous as it may be, the music you listen to now will be the tunes you vibe out to for the rest of your days.
Make the most of it. Remember, as soon as you turn 18; your mother will start hiding her make-up and jewellery and locking her shoe cupboard—and if you’re still hanging ‘round—your father is going to start charging rent!
Until then, sit up to the table properly, put your phone away, and please fold your bloody laundry after supper?
Happy 13th Birthday, Tig. We love you so very much. Being your folks has been the greatest pleasure of our lives.
xxooxx
Mum and Dad
