Yesterday was my youngest niece's birthday. My little sister's little girl turned one. We spent the better part of the day celebrating, and as you can see, I am late with my birthday tribute to my sweet Allison.
Allison is the youngest of two parents who are also the youngest...So she is literally the youngest of the youngest, and boy, does she know it!
Little Miss has sass. Her mouth sits in a permanent pout; as if she is modeling lipstick or constantly trying to figure out how to make you do what she wants, if she could only decide what it is she wants.
But that chubby baby is just a slice of heaven. Her head is covered in a golden halo of soft curls, and when she finally does smile or laugh, I swear, she is just like her mama. It is hearty, genuine, and impossible not to join her in her fit of giggles.
Being the youngest does have its privileges. She lives in a state of being perpetually spoiled. By her parents, her sister, her aunts and uncles. Her grandparents and cousins are no better.
And yesterday, as Her Royal Highness looked around at her loving subjects, she was a happy little girl. The youngest of the youngest. The most loved of all.
Happy birthday, little Miss Alli. We love you so! And I love that sass!