You're 10! I cannot believe how times flies, or more importantly, how extra extremely old I feel to have a child who is ten years old. #damnshithell. It's all about me.
Thank you for not driving me too bat shit crazy last night at your first official sleepover, although we only had 3 girls over, and two went home at 11 PM. You weren't too obnoxious, only mildly, and I didn't once have to tell you to turn that music down. Because you didn't play any, thank god, but you did watch some annoying teenie bopper shows at a louder than normal level, but since you were all sitting nicely on the couch rather than running around like savages, I let it go.
I was kind of concerned when I overheard you all playing truth or dare, and the dare was having the person make out with the giant stuffed giraffe in the living room. You're welcome for me posting that for all the world to see, and it will probably cost you a very lucrative career as a CEO or Presidential nomination, or at the very least a date with the football quarterback in high school, unless he's into things like bestiality, then you're really welcome.There may even be footage of said making out with giant stuffed giraffe, but I'll save that for a particularly important blackmail event like when you try to extort me to pay for your wedding or when you threaten to tattoo the bestiality loving quarterback's face on your buttocks.
I am very proud of the amazing young lady you have become. Smart, beautiful, intelligent, mature, loving, kind and generous. (I did not steal that from the Natalie Merchant song. Swear.) Even though I still question your choice of tights to wear on the first day of school that slightly resembled stripper pantyhose. Please do not become a stripper. Not that I'm knocking the profession, I know those girls can make an insane amount of money. I just have bigger ideas in mind for you like lawyer, hostage negotiator, united nations representative, preeminent news anchor, or you know, international burlesque show superstar. Aim high.