Today I will be as happy as my toddler.

I will immediately assume that every gift — for any occasion — is for me.

I will dance like nobody’s watching, twirl until I fall down, and throw my head back to laugh even when I don’t get the joke. Because I love laughing.

Today I will turn our recycling into fantastic toys invented just for me.

I will love a good walk around the block and stop to admire leaves and worms.

I will take my time.

Today I will know that everyone, whether I’ve met them or not, is my very good friend.

I will love what I see in the mirror, and never give a second thought to my round tummy.

I will convey my needs in exactly one word and repeat it until heeded.

Today I will try on many hats.

Today I will delight in a game of chase, especially if the chaser looks a little peeved.

I will feel awesome about my ability to climb stairs.

I will watch the world out the window and give a big wave to the mailman.

Today I will splash in puddles.

I will hum while I chew something extra tasty.

Today I will have no fear of things like illness and death.

I will not care about my bed head. Not one bit.

I will do something I know I shouldn’t — like rip the houseplant’s leaves or throw my socks off the balcony — just for the thrill.

Today I will cherish books.

I will love hugs and kisses but will only give them on my terms.

I will resist bedtime, but only because I don’t want the fun to end.

I will know that each day is the best I’ve ever had.

And I will love my family, because they’re all I’ve ever known, and I’ll know that they exist for the sole purpose of loving me.

And that, too, will make me happy.