Nine

     At precisely 7:10pm, nine year ago today, the world was made a better place. By me. Oh....John too, but mostly me. Nine years ago tonight, on a night not that different from tonight, we made the trek across Omaha, from roughly 132nd and Maple to Clarkson Hospital. I had been in labor all day. I waited until I couldn't wait anymore. We arrived at the hospital at 6:30pm, and forty minutes later, Zoe LeeAnne Abramo arrived. She weighed in at 6 pounds, 2 ounces and was 19 inches long. She was born with a full head of black hair. She was healthy, and happy unless she was cold, hungry or wet. She seemed to gaze at me with a healthy amount of skepticism as to whether or not I was equipped for the job at hand.
     The following is an interview I conducted with the Birthday Girl. The answers are all her own. I didn't paraphrase in anyway. I asked the questions and she answered them while I typed her answers and she marveled at my ability to type without looking at the keyboard.

Me: What makes you happy?
Zoe: My family. School. Reading. Presents.

Me: What makes you sad?
Zoe: If my parents died.

Me: What scares you the most?
Zoe: If we were in a dark place and I lost you.

Me: What do you think about this first nine years?
Zoe: They've been pretty good. I can't wait to see what the rest of the year will be like.

Me: What is your favorite memory from your first nine years?
Zoe: First time I read a book on my own.

Me: Where do you think you'll be nine years from now?
Zoe: Since I'll be 18, I'll probably be in college or still in high school.

Me: What do you think it means to be beautiful?
Zoe: I don't think you need beauty. I think you need to be smart. Some girls need to think less about being popular and more about being smart. I care about school, not beauty.

Me: What does it mean to be a good friend?
Zoe: I think being a good friend means being nice. I care more about my friends than me.

Me: If someone asked you to do something that you know is wrong, or would hurt someone, what would you do?
Zoe: I wouldn't do it. I would say, "You shouldn't do that. It could hurt someone. You should treat others like you want them to treat you. Do you want someone to do this to you?"

Me: Who do you want to be like when you grow up?
Zoe: I kind of want to grow up to be like you, since I care about you. I also want to be like Daddy because he served in the Army, and girls can serve in the Army.

Me: Is there anything else you want to tell me?
Zoe: Some people think that their parents don't care about them, but deep down they really do. It's like me and Austin. Sometimes I think he doesn't love me, but he really does.

Me: Do you ever feel like I don't love you?
Zoe: No. You tell me every day. Like, a lot. So...no.

Me: What was the last thing that made you cry?
Zoe: My friends called me 'mean', and one of my other friends said to those friends that they should say they were sorry, but when they said it, they were smiling and started laughing. That really set me off.

Me: What was the last thing that made you laugh?
Zoe: The dog was laying with us and he put his paw on my face and you said, "I now baptize you in the name of The Father, The Son, and the Holy Dog Biscuit."

Me: If you could have anything you wanted, what would you pick?
Zoe: A school, so that I could teach a bunch of kids, like my school does for me.

Me: What are you getting me for Christmas?
Zoe: Mooooommmmmyyy! I'm not telling you!

Me: Can I have the last piece of your birthday cake?
Zoe: I'll split it with you.

     In case anyone is curious, I didn't even cry once, all day, until I got to the one about beauty.
     And now I am going to shut this down and go split the last piece of Triple Chocolate Cake with her, because she looks like her Daddy, but she eats chocolate like her Mommy.
     Happy Birthday, my sweet, sweet, Zo. I love you to the moon, to the moon.