Misa . . . Misa . . . Misa.
I value direct and intentional thoughts. Can't seem to get away from them in fact. Yesterday morning for example, Misa asked, "Are you gonna color your hair again? Someday?" A slight hint of hopefulness in her voice, but mostly pretty unemotional. Last night it was "Um. Mama? If the word nincompoop means stupid, is it still okay to use it? Cause I really like that word." And this afternoon while at the Asian market it was, "No offense to you Mama, but this area of the store smells like Barty." (Barty is my dad's dog.)
This morning though, this morning's first thought by Misa represented more than just a kid being direct and intentional. Rolling over after ending up in my sleeping area, Misa stretched her arms slow and wide as she cuddled nudging her head under my neck, and said,
"Happy Thanksgiving Mama. I'm thankful for your and Daddy's relationship."
At the end of this day, I'm thankful that I have a daughter who is direct, intentional and honest, because that expression of thanks is one I will hold close to my heart, mind, and soul forever. I am so thankful for a full life of family and friends, for blessings, for my job, and for Brad - The Love of My Life.
(And for the record, I've been letting my hair grow out and get back to its natural color - grays and all, because before December 31st, I'm cutting it off and donating this mane.)