I always think of The Chicken as my baby. She got that nickname because of her long chicken legs when she was an infant.
I know that I probably baby her more than I should. There is just something about knowing something is your last that makes you savor it all that much more.
And then I see a photo like this and I get a glimpse of the woman that she is rapidly becoming and it takes my breath away and makes me want to curl up in a corner rocking back & forth in denial, all at the same time.
Dearest Chicken, I love you and love to see the woman that you are becoming, but you really don’t need to change into her too quickly.