My sweet precious little angel

My little girl is the epitome of girliness. She likes to dance and sing and play with her dolls. Pink and purple are her two favorite colors.

Sometimes she just looks at me and for no apparent reason you can see the joy and giddiness surge up inside her that causes her to beam a giant grin, tilt her head to one side, do a little jig dance and then run up as fast as she can and give me a big hug.

One of her favorite past times is drawing. She has a magnadoodle pad that she draws on. She likes to take post-it notes and draw on them. When it is warm she takes chalk out and draws on the sidewalk. Many of her drawings are done so well, they do not even warrant the question "That's beautiful! Um... what is it?"

Her subject material stays in the realm of things she loves. Her family, flowers, unicorns. Girly stuff.

A few Saturdays ago she came inside and was very proud of her last drawing. "Come see what I drew dad!" she said. I stepped out on the porch and looked at what she had drawn. "Who is that?" I said. "It's a dead guy. He's bleeding!" she said proudly.

I am thinking her brother just gave her his first art lesson.