For Hannah, on her 18th Birthday

There is almost no real way I can put into words what I feel today, but I’ll give it a try. I can hardly believe it has actually been eight whole years since you appeared in our lives, a mere whisper of a girl. Your easy smile and sweet, (but incredibly sassy spirit) captured our hearts and we quickly adopted you as our own.

When we created a Christmas play and needed a child actor, you were the first person we thought of; not only did you have talent, we genuinely enjoyed having you in our company. Your infectious giggle, and eagerness to be with ‘the big kids’ was endearing, and your work ethic (at such a young age!) was remarkable.

When we decided to jump off this crazy peak of insanity called filmmaking, again, you were one of the first ones we called. You had more than proven yourself on stage, and we wanted you to be a part of this process, however far it would stretch us.

And stretch us it did! We learned, we cried (a lot) and we experienced so many things. You saved the film on the very first day by catching the camera before it was knocked over by a gust of errant wind. You would go on to save more than just the camera as the months, and years, progressed.

On the second film, you saved my personal sanity. You were there, every filming day, helping me load the car, talking me through my lines, picking out my costumes, helping me choose my hairstyles, and sitting up with me til 1am, reviewing footage and making notes for the next day, when, at 7am, we would do it all over again.

During shooting, I was perpetually on the cusp of a nervous breakdown, and you talked me down from more metaphorical ledges than you should ever, at your young age, have heard of. You held my hand, and told me it would all work out.

I remember looking in on you one night when you had finally collapsed in the guest bedroom, and you were sound asleep, holding your teddy bear (Sadie?). Seeing that nearly destroyed me with how precious you looked. I knew that this moment was fleeting, and that before I knew it, you would be a grown woman, too old for teddy bears, and crazy pseudo-adopted sisters.

And today, here we are.

Today you are everything I wanted you to be and never was at this age. Beautiful, accomplished, confident, brilliant, and with the world at your feet. You will never, ever be less than a champion in my eyes, and I can say with utter honesty, I could not imagine my life without you.

So forgive me if, sometime in the future, I look at you and get a little emotional.  You see, I will still see traces of that little girl, hugging her teddy bear, smiling up at me with that infectious grin, and giggling.

I love you, and wish you the happiest of birthdays.

The Golden Corral Bathroom Cookie War Radio Drama

The Golden Corral was the second stop of the day after wandering aimlessly around the massive expanse of a retail store that is the “Bass Pro Shop.” From one sensory overload to another, it was an afternoon of indulgence that only Southerners know how to partake of.

After feasting on the smorgasbord like Templeton the Rat at the fair, I made the necessary bathroom visit before departing. A few seconds behind me followed a very impressive child screamer of about five years old or younger, and his mother.

(Reminder: This encounter was so impressive, I’m writing a post about it, so don’t stop reading yet.)

I must confess that I stayed in the stall longer than I should have to listen to the outcome. It turned out to be dinner and a show. But more like a Radio Drama, since, you know, I couldn’t see their faces.

Scene: Golden Corral Bathroom

Sobbing child enters, followed by Mother.

Wait….I must edit that. Not sobbing.

Gut wrenching, melodramatic screaming child enters followed by Mother.

Better.

Scene continues Continue reading