Written by  ,     November 6, 2013     Posted in Fun, My Girls

I vaguely remember my 1st born’s 1st steps, and then, 1st words. Such exciting times, and pleasant memories. I remember holding her small body to mine, dancing around the room and singing my favorite song of the day in her ear. I remember years later, her poise and thoughtfulness in forming conversation, and beyond that, the realization that her “honors” status meant, she was fast approaching being full-on smarter than her old man. I remember the day it was SHE telling ME of a great new song on the radio, and the recognition that my baby had great musical awareness–This father’s dream come true!

And, now, 27 years later, I will never forget that for my 50th birthday, my baby gifted “us” Pearl Jam tickets, scheduled to rock last week’s VOODOO Fest in New Orleans–complete with rented apartment and a 3 day trolley pass, and Saturday night reservations to the newest, hottest restaurant in The Big Easy. “Dad…you just need to get yourself there!”

Woot hoo! What a precious gift.

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