seventeen

happy seventeenth birthday to my little bean. i don't know how that happened! in honor of her birthday, i present one of dozens of adorable stories i like to tell, like some old grandma, about my girl:


scene: grocery store. bean is riding in the cart. she is about three years old.

little old lady: "oh, such a little sweet cutie pie, oh so cute (or words to that effect)!" she approaches, cheek pinching fingers at the ready.

bean, turning an impassive face towards me: "these people are all hyenas."


can i just tell you how amazed i still am to realize that she was so truly herself at that age? even when she was a baby, she was the same person she is today (although she is able to walk and talk etc now of course), with the same dry sense of humor and skepticism and intelligence?


also, this photograph of bean making muffins (or cupcakes?) reminds me of the time her preschool teacher confessed to me that when her three year olds brought in baked goods, she would ask enthusiastically, "did you help make these?!" and if they answered, "yes," she would surreptitiously not eat any, knowing so well how dirty and germy those little hands tended to be. although i didn't share her qualms, i thought it was funny.