Radiant

My four-year-old daughter is a living, breathing encyclopedia.  Nearly every sentence that comes from her lips begins with

Well,
Actually,
But really,
or
Not necessarily...

It is awesome.

Seeing her blossom into a strong, intelligent young woman makes my heart soar.  I want to bottle that confidence she has and store it away for those difficult years of teenage insecurity which will most likely make their uninvited debut down the bumpy road of life.  But at this moment, she radiates self-acceptance and absolute joy as she lives in the present moment.  I try to catch some of that enthusiasm and embrace it in my own life.  Life was so simple at four.  Maybe it still can be, at least in some regards.  

One sunny morning, after she has just expounded on some subject of deep importance to her, Bryson cocks his head and grins at her.
 
"Reilly," he asks, "what on earth would we ever do without you?"

She takes a moment to seriously consider the question and then pronounces her answer with great theatricality.

"Panic!"

Truthfully, I think she's right.