To think socks almost derailed her...

Laila is done. She slayed high school with physics and calculus and English, solving problems beyond my comprehension and writing poems so amazing and twisty they should be in a book. At one point during this school year she was talking about some physics thing and I just looked at her and said, "You've passed me up. I am of no use to you. Unless you want to learn to sew. Do you want to learn to sew?"

The kid who threw a three-hour fit about wearing socks to kindergarten has become one of the most extraordinary people on this planet. She's a safe driver, she keeps her room clean, she takes good care of her rabbit, her eyebrows are on fleek, and she is freakin' funny. She has good self-esteem, manners, and expectations. Sure, she's a bit of a noodle and can't open jars, but that means SHE NEEDS ME STILL.

I don't have or want my own kids precisely because I have Laila. She gave me a taste of what parenting really entails, of how children really are, of the capacity of love and the hilarious joy in the unpredictable. I was talking to some of my peers at work the other day about making friends, and I was like, hmmmm, my best friend is probably my sister-in-law. She's the person I call to do stuff with when I know Mack will say no. She's the person I can goof off with or just veg out with. She's on my wavelength. And then I thought, is it weird to be best friends with an 18 year old? Laila assured me it's not and she's a damn genius.

It has been a pleasure in my life to watch her evolve as a person and nurture her as a human, and I couldn't be more proud of her. This girl can be or do anything, and I'm stoked to watch her master this next part of life. I love you, Lablr. Always will.