Ssshhhhhhh.....don't tell

Dear Emma Grace She Who Shall Not Be Named,

I see and delight in your very secret transformation: your covert operation to slowly but surely resign your status as reigning diva in our home.

You have made it clear that this is not something to be discussed, so your father and I just sit back and watch, amused by your tactics. I can see that you are embarrassed and not ready for the world to see the new you, so I won't tell the world - just the few people who read this blog. And I'll tell my few readers what your Popeye always says: "Don't tell anybody, but if you do, tell them not to tell anybody." (Clearly your grandfather is very wise).

For example, I won't tell anyone about your secret obsession with Star Wars.
I won't tell them that I've seen you (when you think nobody is looking) grab your brother's tag and sticker books and read all about jedi knights. I won't tell them how you've even chosen wars with light sabers during quiet time over tea parties and polly pockets. GASP! I won't tell them that when you're with just me and the boys, you quiz me on which movies I've seen, who my favorite characters are, and what happens in each one. I especially won't tell them that I oft overhear you trying to convince Isaac to bring his Transformers book out for me to read to both of you. That is just embarrassing, right?

Seriously, your secret is safe with me.

I won't tell them how you've become quite the daredevil. You used to enjoy the playground as long as you weren't getting dirty, but now you rule the playground. I won't tell them how you make me nervous jumping from swings and climbing the highest heights. I won't tell them how you got in trouble the other day for trying to catch critters in the creek out back in a pair of your best shoes.

I won't tell them about our battle the night of your graduation. A battle I never thought I would have with you and a battle that you won. I won't tell them that while I wanted you to wear your pretty pink sandals with your smocked dress, you insisted on wearing your chuck taylors.

Nope, my lips are sealed.

I won't tell them that even though you sometimes publicly claim you really wish you had a sister, privately you relish your time with your brothers, and quite simply, adore them.

Nope. I'm not going to tell, but please know that whenever you're ready to come out of the "tomboy closet," the world will still welcome you with open arms. Because (not to label, but...) whether you're a tomboy, diva, or some combination of the two, you are still quite delightful.

PS - I also won't tell them that I was wrong. Clearly, the chuck taylors were the way to go.