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Dear Caroline,

I love my new tattoo. The one just for you. Your name, if you can read music. I tried so hard to make sure it’s the exact length of your hand. I can’t wait for you to touch it.

I want to play with you.

I want to stay up late with you and make cracker and cheese plates and picnic on the living room floor.

I want to get you a kayak and spend the day on the river, laughing and getting a slight sunburn.

I want to surprise you in bed in the morning when I’m fresh out of the shower and dripping wet by climbing on top of you and letting my hair drip onto your face.

I want to throw water balloons in the house.

I want to go camping and hiking and road tripping and I want you to tell me stories about all the places you’ve been. I want to stop into tiny family diners on the small side roads and wonder with you how it started.

I want to hide around corners and shoot you with Nerf guns.

I want to make silly faces at you when you’re taking an important phone call.

I want to buy a huge container of sidewalk chalk and decorate the entire street in front of our house until it rains and we laugh at the swirls of color that the puddles make. Then I want to dance with you in the rain barefoot.

I want to make huge messes in the kitchen with you. I want to put flour hand prints on your arms and shoulders while you leave powered sugar ones on my ass. I want to lick the batter off of your chin if you miss while licking the spatula clean.

I want to break out the coloring books and teach you to paint even though I have paint steaks in my hair and on my cheek.

I want to build and remodel and repurpose and recycle interesting items we find in thrift stores.

I want to paint the items in our home bright colors like lemon and aquamarine.

I love you so much. It’s going to be great.