The Fridge Files (Part One in a Series): Loving Letters

There are few things sweeter than getting a piece of mail, a little moment of connection tucked inside a fragile paper envelope that can capture someone's complete attention and put your love right in their hands. One of those things is getting letters from Laila.

Because she is smarter than all the other kids in the world, Laila, 6, is already able to read and write. She read the entire "Push Button to Cross" sign all by herself when we were at a crosswalk this weekend... she actually said "Push Button to Choose" but that was only because she was mixing in some philosophy since she's already mastered the English language. This kid knows what's up.

Since Mack also knows what's up and his 103.1% A+ calculus tests (the highest in the class) deserve some attention, I had to swap some of Laila's letters for his exams. I love a decorated fridge, but we're running low on the magnets, and I've had to make some cuts. But I'm not about to part with my collection of Laila Love Letters without immortalizing them first.

I mean, when someone as brilliant as Laila lets you know that you are it, you don't let go of that easily...
As you'd expect of a genius, she is very articulate, able to maturely yet subtlely let you know her needs and wants. And if the words don't drive home the message, she considerately adds a visual that expands your perception of yourself.
I've seen a lot of art in my time, and I've never seen someone so profoundly execute a woman with male pattern balding and earlobes for arms. Makes you wonder if Picasso wasn't a mailman in her neighborhood, doesn't it?
Because two-dimensional artwork and messaging is for, well, babies, Laila has already started executing outside the page. The masterpiece below may just blow your mind, so you might want to cover your computer. I know you like it.
This last Laila letter is my favorite. It's simple yet poignant, poetic yet direct, full of whimsy while rooted in reality. And, since if that's all it was she'd be any other six-year-old, she actually designed the paper herself. She calls it, brace yourself, Zebra.
If you need to take some time off because her talent has left you dizzy or your jealousy is starting to consume you, Laila, who is basically a doctor, can write you a doctor's note. Or a prescription for "optibibotics," which are so futuristic today's doctors don't even know about them and which Laila brought to my attention while we were playing "Emergency Room." It's like "TJ Maxx," only with more tantrums and Ma'ams.

It's really too bad I can't just keep her on the fridge.