the email equivalent of watching a kitten fall down a flight of stairs.

A cruel twist of fate caused me to meet my favorite nine-year-old in the world just before I left LA, and we only got to hang out once. When I emailed her parents to tell them I was moving her mom emailed me back a reply of congratulations that ended with this:


(p.s. I'm going to wait a couple of days to tell [most beautiful name ever spoken] since it's her birthday tomorrow...after I tell her I'll let you know, and then would you mind sending her a little email to say goodbye? I know you didn't spend a lot of time together, but she had such a great time - you really made an impression on her! Thanks so much.)


Dear favorite newly-ten-year-old in the world, please convince your family to move to Portland, this week if possible. We can climb trees and never brush our hair and I just found a new kind of Skittles that will change everything you think you know about candy.