I don't need Lost to tell me that there are possible rifts in the space-time continuum. I already know it for a fact.
Here's Bosco yesterday:
And here she is today:
When we brought her home from the hospital (yesterday), I laid down on the bed to snuggle with a sleeping Bosco. I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.
The Dad gently asked me what was wrong.
"She's going to leave someday!!!" I wailed.
He looked at me as if I were crazy. (Which I was, what with the postpartum hormonal changes and the Vicodin loaded into me...I've since learned rough lessons that Vicodin causes me intractable insomnia and horrible panic attacks. Hindsight yada yada.)
"In 18 years!!" he replied. Which only made me wail harder.
Flash forward (bow to me, all you Lost fans) to today. I was thinking about how Bosco's almost 9 1/2, and it hit me...we're more than halfway there.
I'd better wake up. I'd better start paying more attention. Because tomorrow she'll be 18. I don't want to miss a thing between today and tomorrow.