Walking across the church parking lot, I reach for my daughters hand.
"I don't need to hold your hand" says my daughter.
Absent mindedly I ask "oh, are you too big to hold my hand now?"
"Well, I'm almost six. So the answer might be yes"
:short pause:
"But don't be mad " she finishes, "I'm almost six."
And in one poetic conversation, my daughter reminds me that she is growing up AND that I can't be "mad" about it.
She is almost 6.
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