Her hair is always a mess, no matter whether I fix it in the morning or not. By 10 a.m. the rubber bands have disappeared and it's just a big white puffball flying every which way on her head.

She smiles the biggest, sings the loudest, runs everywhere she goes in such a headlong way that she often topples right over.

She loves her sisters, calling out cheerfully for them when she wants their attention (which is always). "Girls? Where are you girls? Look at me! Look at me!"

When they displease her, (which is often) she has no qualms about reaching right out and smacking them, no matter how many times I tell her that we don't hit in this family. Other times she just comes up, pushes them over, and climbs on top of them, where she sits cheerfully while they cry underneath her. "Mom! Get her off of me! Get her off!" It's as though they forget that they are older, bigger, and stronger than she is. Somehow, Evie just doesn't come across as small, even though she's only 2 years old.

She loves knock-knock jokes, hates Kit-Kat bars, and is, I feel certain, destined for world domination.

I've never known anyone with such zest for living...except maybe her daddy.