I don't think it's the movie that so good...it's the company. This tall, reed like woman-child, sitting, captivated next to me, alternating between chattering constantly and dead silence, mouth open at the screen, still in awe of her early Christmas gift.
Somehow, she manages to be so old and so young at the same time. Still here with me, but so far away...pushing every day just to be a little bit farther, and then, without warning, she lands in my lap like a child of three.
I'm slightly ambivalent about the Twilight series, but I will watch every movie, read every book, learn every make up trick in an effort to extend her childhood just one more hour, to have one more thing to discuss with her...or should I say listen to her discuss. Remarkably, she has more to say than I do.
It's even more remarkable that she's eleven. Eleven. I have an eleven year old child.
Funny, I don't feel much older than that most days. Life is very strange.