She walks up to the tree, the Christmas lights shining off her already shining eyes and she is bursting with excitement. I tell her gentle, because I can tell from her trembling that she wants to hug the tree with all of her tiny might. On one of the lowest branches is a felt bird ornament. She reaches with her liddle hand and pets it ever so softly. I pat her head, telling her good, every trying to reinforce the ‘gentle’ petting. She of course then proceeds to poke the bird, viciously, in the eye. At least it is felt. The cats don’t enjoy being poked in the eye either but they have these sharp little claws to defend themselves so they more often then not get shooed out of the house before my little terror can commence terrorizing them. It is moments like this though, when she so gently and sweetly pets an ornament, or when she held up the toy phone to the cats ear because why not? The kitty might have something important to say. That absolutely melt my heart. I am going to have to imprint these moment on my soul so that when she is fifteen and screaming at me that she never wants to be like me I can think oh but I want to be like you. Innocent. Pure. And so full of love she even gives it to ornaments.