It’s a mild summer afternoon, a rarity in the seemingly unending scorching weeks that we’ve had this season. After a busy morning of cooking with Rebecca during our quarterly freezer “cook days,” I decide to indulge in two of my favorite vices: a cigar and a beer. Taking my e-reader, I retire to our backyard, a little postage-stamp area that we invested time and money in to create a sort of outdoor haven. Today, I plan to enjoy that investment for forty-five minutes or so.

My oldest daughter “Reader” decides to join me, grabbing her latest book and a couple of spares. As we both sit there reading, I put down my book to watch her, a rare opportunity given since she and her three sisters have to take turns clamoring for my attention.

The afternoon sun just starts to creep around the side of the house and begins to make her glow; she is well-tanned after many days spent at the pool the past couple months. Reader suddenly feels the urge to don a hat and runs back inside to fetch her favorite pink baseball cap. Coming back outside, she realizes that the hat only makes her hotter, so back inside she runs. Appearing only a minute later, she proudly boasts of the perfect ponytail she’s managed to fashion by herself - a pride-worthy accomplishment indeed since it’s certainly better than any I’ve ever managed. Expertly, she threads her ponytail through the opening in her cap and gets it settled on her head.

Satisfied, she sits back down to her book and begins to read in earnest. Her appetite for books is nearly insatiable and weekly trips to the library have begun to quickly exhaust material that can both challenge her reading ability and contain age-appropriate content. As I watch her read, her face conveys the vivid images dancing through her mind as her expressions change from fierce indignation to overwhelming joy.

She is blissfully unaware of the concerns for her future that run through my mind. Images of her a mere six or seven years from now flash by: she’s studying for an exam, worrying about a boy she likes, wondering and dreaming about what she wants to do “when she grows up.”

Unaware that I am watching her, she begins to absentmindedly wiggle a tooth that she’s certain is nearly ready to come out. Her inspection complete, she settles back in to her story, another chapter book centering around her favorite subject: fairies. I notice small details that are invisible most days: peeling green polish on her tiny toenails; temporary fairy tattoos that are only half intact, the way she fidgets when engrossed in a good story.

Returning to my own book, I’m startled when, near the end of her book, Reader suddenly shrieks and nearly jumps out of her chair. Apparently the heroine in the story has managed to save the fairy kingdom – which, amusingly, surprises her, even though this is the plot line in nearly all of her books! – and brings a wide smile to her face, a smile characterized by gaps from lost baby teeth and large secondary teeth still emerging.

Finished her book, Reader dashes off to practice riding her bicycle, which per her request are now free of training wheels. Just one more step towards her independence that may some day culminate in her marrying and moving away to begin a journey building her own family. I’m glad I had – albeit briefly - this afternoon to share with her and that I took the opportunity to fully appreciate her company.