On this, the eve of Riya’s 9th birthday, I suggested to her that she could be an excellent lawyer someday. This is something Robin’s mom has maintained pretty much since Riya learned to talk, and every year I only get more convinced that she is right.
My arguments in support of this theory are as follows, though I am sure she would first want me to stipulate that she is in no way obligated to choose law as a career once she reaches the age of majority.
What prompted the observation in the first place was that she called me urgently to her room because she needed to tell me something. When I got there, she pointed to a page in her book. She was practically quivering with indignation over an injustice done to the main character, and she wanted someone to commiserate with her over it.
She has always been this way, rising to the cause of the underdog. It has never mattered whether the underdog in question is fictional or real, historical or current, someone she knows or someone she will never meet. It is one of my favorite things about her.
And then, as I was tucking her into bed later this evening, she talked me into promising that I would wake her up at 12:30 in the morning so she could celebrate the moment she turns 9. Despite how it went last year. Even though I told her there was no way I was falling for that again.
The alarm is set for 12:25. Shut up.
Robin says I am a sucker, but I did at least gain one concession. I said if she doesn’t remember tomorrow morning that I woke her up, then I never ever have to do this again.
“Forever,” Robin says, “is that how you measure 365 days?”
He would’ve made a good lawyer, too.
Happy 9th birthday, Miss Riya!