Someday . . .

Someday, little girl, you won't want to hold our hands anymore. We'll have to grab you before crossing the street or walking across the parking lot; we'll have to holler, "Wait for me!"

Someday, sweet baby, you will be so adept at walking that it would not occur to you to drop to your knees and crawl. We'll have to run after you and shout, "Slow down! Be careful!"

Someday you won't need us nearly as much as you do now.

We won't have to serve ketchup with every meal and change diapers and run bubble baths and pick up toys and walk slowly and put socks on your feet and cook chicken nuggets.

And we won't get to hear, "Mommy! Help! Buckle me! Milk! Walk, walk, walk, walk! Daddy! Do that! Toys! Out! Up!"

Someday you won't want to hold our hands. Someday . . . but today, I'm glad you still want us to hold your hand and help you walk.