So. It's come to this.
Max turned 21 years old today.
I guess I'm done? For 7670 days I've been her dad and now I guess she's fully an adult and off on her own from here on out, right?
Not a chance. I remember the day she was born like it was yesterday, which makes me wonder how she suddenly got so tall, where so much of my hair went and how on earth my waist is now five inches wider.
But she's now, still and forever, my little girl.
Happy birthday, kiddo.