Dear Miss 8...

Happy birthday, little girl, a whole seven years on from when this photograph was taken. Well, now you're not so little after all - as you've informed us, you're no longer a little little girl; you're a big little girl. Being a whole eight years old is a vastly different kettle of fish to being just seven.

So here's a little bit about you, little big girl. I'm not sure if you'll ever read this, but I do that know that for me and your Daddy your childhood seems to have the fast-forward button pressed on it, so I'm going to write these things down for us.

You're in Year 3, and you're in the top group for reading (kind of expected, seeing as you took to reading so easily when you were younger - just like me) and for maths (this, you did not inherit from me and Daddy says that even though he's an accountant, he was always top in woodwork at school!). Your teacher says you sometimes lack concentration and tend to daydream, but that you're happy and confident in class.

You play the recorder really, really well, and can even read music now, which is very cool. You can swim length after length of the big pool at the aquatic centre (and you can beat everybody in your class, but I'm not supposed to mention that)- you love, love, love being in the water. When we take you to the beach you will spend hours in the sea (often being forcibly removed when your lips have turned blue) and you have no fear of big waves, even when you get dumped time after time.

You love animals, especially kittens and cats, and have stickers and pictures of them all over your wall. Lately, you've become very interested in fashion, and have taken the fad for layering to the extreme - sometimes you dress for school wearing a t-shirt, a long-sleeved t-shirt, a long smock top pinafore (thee absolute fashion must-have at the moment), a skirt underneath the pinafore, all finished off with a pair of leggings, completely contrary to the "less is more" ethic. You also love hairbands and clips and ties, and will put as many as possible into your hair so it ends up looking like the accessories stand at Pumpkin Patch.

You're friendly and outgoing, and will give new things a try with almost no hesitation. You sometimes tell blatant fibs, and you always are amazed when you get caught out, but afterwards you're always so incredibly sorry and very remorseful. You can be frustratingly flakey and you're always, always forgetting where you've put things, and you're a star at leaving things behind (this I blame squarely on Daddy - he was always bellhopping your stuff when you where younger). You have a deep gravelly voice and a goofy chuckle, and a tiny lisp when it comes to saying your "th"'s.

At the moment, you've got long, straight fair hair which, despite having some fancy doodads to dress it up with, you frequently don't brush properly. You're tall and angular, with long legs and broad shoulders. You have freckles and fair skin, but luckily you've got Daddy's nice dark eyelashes instead of Mummy's albino mouse ones.

You love your food, and sometimes will eat as much as me. Chocolate is by far your favourite food, but you do enjoy baked beans and fish fingers (that's the English blood coming out in you) and eggs of any variety.

Yesterday was your actual birthday, but seeing as it was Father's Day, we did your birthday thing on Saturday instead. Daddy and I took you, two friends and your cousins to the Wave Pools, and we went down the hydroslide and rode waves and dived and splashed about, then we hit MaccyD's for lunch. Last night you chose to have homemade pizza for dinner, and then we had birthday cake afterwards (chocolate with candy-coated chocolate bits on top). You almost fell asleep in your cake you were that knackered, but somehow you managed to squeeze the last crumb in.

Happy 8th birthday, Miss 8 - we love you little big girl.

Mummy and Daddy
xxxx