The fourth child is different.
She is a free spirit, this one is.
She is often defiant.
She will not sit still for a haircut, a toothbrush or nailclipping. And you can forget nail polish.
She loves to take a bath, but hates to be washed. “Fight the towel” is her motto.
She is not dainty. But she likes to have tea.
She likes sparkley things, and babydolls and puppies. And jellycat.
The fourth child hates to have her hair brushed. She is not amused by the pigtails. And she doesn’t always keep her bows in. Actually, she never keeps her bows in.
She is often half-dressed. Because she won’t wear a bib. And she has not quite refined her eating skills yet. And therefore she is often stained. Or shirtless. Because her mom figures if she puts another clean shirt on her, well, that’s just more laundry to do.
The fourth child has spent a lot of time in her jammies. All day. Sometimes for two or three days in a row, ahem.
The fourth child won’t leave her shoes on. And her socks…her socks are always half on. Flopping around off the tips of her toes. And she seems content that way.
The fourth child doesn’t talk much. But she is loud. And she is heard. She has to be, or she’d get lost in the shuffle.
She has a guardian angel that works overtime. You know, to keep her from falling off the top bunk if she were to hypothetically scale the ladder or something.
She often appears a mess. But this one has an air of confidence and independence unlike the others.
She refers to herself as “bebe.” Even though she is almost two. But she’s right. She’ll always be the baby.
The fourth child loves kisses. But not hugs so much. Maybe her mom is hugging her a little too much. Maybe her mom should get a life. Ahem.
She is adored by her brothers and her sister.
And the fourth child is loved every little bit as much as the first or the second, or the third.
The fourth child completes us.