Three Christmas wishes for my eight-year-old daughter

Child!

Oh, Child. I feel I should start this with an apology (and not for calling you pet names that drive you mad, because that’s still slightly funny). 🤷🏻‍♀️

I’m sorry you inherited my anxious tendencies. I still remember when it first became obvious my cunning plan to not be myself around you had failed: when, as a toddler, you started to charmingly call out “Be careful, Mummy! Be careful, Daddy!” from the back seat of the car.

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