I will remember

In sixteen years, during a bout of adolescent rebellion and hormonal upheaval, when Sophie tells me she hates me and accuses me of ruining her life because I refuse to let her go to the prom with a boy named Spikebomb or leave the house in whatever inappropriate attire teenagers in 2026 deem fashionable, remind me that there was a time in her life when I was the center of her universe, when afternoons spent cuddling and snuggling with me was the highlight of the day, and when her reaching out and drawing me into her kisses was one of the most beautiful and profound things her mother has ever experienced.

If I loved our daughter any more, I think I might fall apart...