On any normal given day, she hates me. She can't even stand to share the same air. It's the age. At least that's what I keep telling myself. It's my hope anyway. I've done this stage twice already. You'd think I wouldn't be so surprised by it's effects. But I am.
She's been sick for the last 3 days. Home. With me. And guess what? She's the girl I remember. The one hidden under her teenage anger. We've talked, and laughed and listened to music in the car. It's been the strangest of days and yet the best of ones.
So today I'm grateful for the blessings standing in front of me. Especially the sick one laying on the couch. I'm rather fond of her.
I'm crossing my fingers that she still likes me once she feels well :)
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