Our youngest daughter, Celia, was born 16 years ago today, and by preschool she was already exhibiting a sense of style, a certain flair. She did not inherit these traits; they are her own through and through.
Celia loves to shop — and I shop as little as possible. In the last year we have reached a tentative truce. She shops with friends and easily doubles or triples the amount of time I spend in stores. But sometimes we shop together. And then the fun begins.
"Oh no, Mom," she says when she sees me eying something for myself. "Why do you always pick out the most shapeless dress?" Sometimes her only comment is a single arched eyebrow. I am relearning through Celia to put the fun back in fashion.
A youngest daughter is a link to the future, a push to the present. She is a sweet reminder of youth.
Happy birthday, Celia!