Dear Eliza,
We had another incredible Fourth of July on the island. Much of that is thanks to your Mom, who spent weeks planning everything with the "Fun Committee." This year, though, you really leaned into making the celebration special too.
You planned several head-to-toe outfits for the festivities and decorated your bike with streamers and ribbons for the parade. You weren't just attending the celebration—you were helping create it.
I don't know if Mom recruited you or if you volunteered, but you took on one of the biggest jobs of the day: face painting. That's real pressure! It made perfect sense, though, given your growing interest in makeup for everyday fun or preparing for dance recitals.
We ordered patriotic face paints, stencils, and brushes, and you spent weeks practicing on the family. I walked around for several days with red, white, and blue designs painted across the backs of my hands. The night before the holiday—also your brother's birthday—you were practicing with your friend Zoe when you accidentally broke the hand mirror you needed. The tears flowed immediately. We made an emergency call to a friend heading into town, who rescued us with a replacement mirror. Crisis averted.
That wasn't your only project. You also wanted to enter the apple pie contest, so you and Mom spent the morning making a pie with a sweet bun crust. Since Mom was busy managing what felt like half the island's festivities, I was left in charge of the oven. Between prepping the truck for the parade and running around with last-minute preparations, the pie got a little crispier than planned. Thankfully, we caught it in time, and it still tasted delicious.
The day itself was a whirlwind. We bounced from the parade to sandcastle building, rope swinging (where Matteo earned third place), water balloon tosses, and everything in between. While the rest of us wandered from event to event, you were stationed at your face-painting table for the first couple of hours after the parade, serving a long line of excited kids.
Watching you work was one of my favorite parts of the day and gave me a huge smile.
You were, dare I say, professional. You greeted each child, introduced yourself, explained their options, and gently turned their heads to help them stay still. You carefully dabbed on each color, paid attention to the little details, and never seemed rushed, even with a line stretching out in front of you. Then, with a friendly smile, you'd let them know they were finished and invite the next customer to take a seat. Mom and I made sure you took a break, but you were happy to keep going as long as kids kept lining up.
By the end of the afternoon, you'd painted a few dozen faces and even earned a couple of dollars in tips. All those weeks of preparation had literally paid off.
Sometimes big events can make you feel anxious or overwhelmed. But when you have a chance to contribute—especially by using your creativity—you become a completely different person. Instead of worrying about the crowd, you focused on the work. Instead of feeling unsure, you became confident. Parents spend a lot of time trying to help their kids find their place in the world. This time, you found yours all by yourself.
And now we have a makeup artist in the family.
I'm not going to give you much of a canvas to work with as long as I keep my beard, but my forehead and hands are always fair game whenever you want to practice.
Love,
Dad