The Adoption Day

Journal

Today, the judge asked Lily if she wanted to be ours forever. She stood up on her chair and said, 'Duh.'

We met Lily two years ago. She was five, hiding behind her caseworker, holding a backpack with everything she owned.

Two years of movie nights, burnt pancakes, and a thousand drawings on our fridge. She started calling us Mom and Dad somewhere around drawing number forty.

This morning, she picked her own outfit. A little tee we'd had made for today. It says 'Chosen.' She said, 'That's me. I'm the chosen one.'

The judge read the papers. Lily nodded very seriously, like she'd done this a hundred times.

Then the judge asked the big question. Lily stood on her chair — 'Duh!' — and the whole courtroom laughed.

Outside, she ran to the car shouting, 'I'm officially a Johnson!' Then she whispered, 'Can we get ice cream? Forever families get ice cream, right?'

The shirt's already got ice cream on it. It's staying in the memory box. Some days you keep forever.