Today I will be as happy as my toddler.
I will immediately assume that every gift — for any occasion — is for me.
I will dance like nobody’s watching, twirl until I fall down, and throw my head back to laugh even when I don’t get the joke. Because I love laughing.
Today I will turn our recycling into fantastic toys invented just for me.
I will love a good walk around the block and stop to admire leaves and worms.
I will take my time.
Today I will know that everyone, whether I’ve met them or not, is my very good friend.
I will love what I see in the mirror, and never give a second thought to my round tummy.
I will convey my needs in exactly one word and repeat it until heeded.
Today I will try on many hats.
Today I will delight in a game of chase, especially if the chaser looks a little peeved.
I will feel awesome about my ability to climb stairs.
I will watch the world out the window and give a big wave to the mailman.
Today I will splash in puddles.
I will hum while I chew something extra tasty.
Today I will have no fear of things like illness and death.
I will not care about my bed head. Not one bit.
I will do something I know I shouldn’t — like rip the houseplant’s leaves or throw my socks off the balcony — just for the thrill.
Today I will cherish books.
I will love hugs and kisses but will only give them on my terms.
I will resist bedtime, but only because I don’t want the fun to end.
I will know that each day is the best I’ve ever had.
And I will love my family, because they’re all I’ve ever known, and I’ll know that they exist for the sole purpose of loving me.
And that, too, will make me happy.