Based on a True Story

My daughter was born with the look of someone who knows she's the only competent person in the room. Serious. Stoic. Always assessing the situation.

I tried singing to soothe her but it never worked. One evening when she was particularly disapproving, an episode of Band of Brothers came on. The sounds of gunfire and chaos calmed her instantly. War was her lullabye.

This became the go-to solution. Whenever my 6lb bundle wrapped in pastels started to give a grizzled scowl, we'd play a war movie and she'd be satisfied.

I began to wonder, was she some 4-star general reborn to finish a mission? I felt sure she'd seen combat in a past life.

So when we were grocery shopping and she gave me that look, brow furrowed and a thousand-yard stare, I knew a mission was inevitable.

That's when it hit me. She'd unleashed chemical warfare.

I stared at her in horror. She locked eyes with me in a no-nonsense stare that said it all. "You have your orders.”

I snapped to attention, the driver to her tank commander. We swerved past civilians like we were dodging landmines. I crashed into the restroom under imaginary fire and found the fold-out changing table. It hung crooked having seen its own unspeakable battles.

I laid my little commanding officer down, one hand keeping her steady, the other prepping a wipe like I was defusing a bomb.

She silently watched me struggle with that same grim expression she’s had since birth that says, “We’ve lost good men out here, Mother. Hold the line.”

I braced for destruction....

Nothing. Pristine. Clean as a freshly pressed uniform.

She smiled. A smug grin knowing her first psy-op was a success.

And that's when it happened. Her FIRST laugh! She wiggled victoriously as it bubbled out of her, delighted that her new recruit fell for the oldest trick in the book.

In that moment, I realized: My daughter isn't just serious. She's serious about winning.

God help us all.