She wrapped her arms around me and whispered, “Daddy, that was the best birthday ever.” And I realized something. Years from now, she won’t remember what snacks I bought or how clean her dress stayed. She’ll remember the waves, the laughter, the castle she built with her friends.
Because childhood isn’t supposed to be neat. It isn’t supposed to be controlled. Childhood is supposed to be lived — wild, messy, and unforgettable.
