Sunday morning, before church, there was some twirling and dancing in the backyard. I was there with a camera, of course.

For a brief moment, I look at this photo and think I can imagine what she’ll look like ten years from now. Every few months, I catch a moment that seems to be speaking from the future. “Prepare yourself, Tata,” she says in those moments. “I’m not going to be a toddler for long.”

Definitely not, but she’ll certainly be a dancer. She dances endlessly, tirelessly.

“All kids at this age like dancing and music,” says the lady at daycare.

“Yes, but you don’t understand,” I want to say. “She dances more than any other person I’ve ever encountered.”

But I don’t say it. She’s probably already heard it a million times.