#blassbox20

Annie turned twenty years old this past Saturday. Her last day as a teenager was spent in overalls because why wouldn’t it be. She requested that Teenage Dream be the last song of the night and even did a lap around her high school track as a “goodbye to innocence.” (lol @ my Endless Love reference- if you haven’t seen the movie: the boyfriend punches the dad, then the house burns down, then I tried to gouge my eyes out so I don’t even know). “A quarter of a mile for a quarter of my life,” she said. So that was morbid, but when it’s her party she can say what she wants to. (@mileycyrus)

Annie was born in the year of the dog. Perfect because she has one. On Tuesday, that dog, called Padfoot, decorated Annie’s room while she was in the shower. He didn’t finish in time and made her stand outside in the hallway in a towel because it was about him right then. Despite having small dog hands, he cut circles and letters like a professional circle and letter cutter. It was really sweet. He really loves her.

On Friday, the eve of her birth, we headed to Atlanta, Georgia: Land of the free, home of the Brave(s). Five girls, one car. Bagels and laughter. Car games and cuddling. All of the feels. After too many country songs, Laura told us she “just really loves us, guys.” On that note, Annie grabbed her bible and started calling the trip a “women’s retreat.” She opened the book to 2 Kings for a little encouragement and read us a highlighted passage. “He went up from there to Bethel, and while he was going up on the way, some small boys came out of the city and jeered at him, saying, ‘Go up, you baldhead! Go up, you baldhead!” It was an encouraging time for all involved.

Then they took this real picture.

I guess maybe the highlight of that day was when we shared hot dogs and blue Powerade courtesy of dear friends named Joel and David, or when she compared and contrasted Kimbrel’s fiery entrance at Turner Field to what Heaven will be like with Beth. But I think Annie most appreciated the firework show I asked Coach Braves to put on for her. That’s because just as her name lit up the sky and the entire stadium sang happy birthday to her, John Krasinski walked up behind her and told her he [platonically (hi, Emily Blunt)] loved her and that she was everything.

Atlanta is also the land of the Eastern Time zone. In other words, we were so excited to celebrate Anne Dearman Blass’ life that we literally time traveled in order to party an hour earlier. By party I mean car dance to Young, Wild, and Free, and decide whether or not she is already wrinkling. It’s a no for me.

When we awoke Saturday morning, it was still her birthday, because that’s how days work. There was coffee on the table and homemade biscuits. There was a hike up Kennesaw Mountain. There was the OK Café and there was Little 5 parallel parking. Saturday night, Annie saw Lion King on Broadway with her sister and I saw Justin Bieber with thirteen-year-old girls. It was the best of times. (At one point Annie tried to tell me I reminded her of Scar from the play. That was the worst of times.)

Just after midnight on Sunday, Annie announced to the room that finally “People are really going to take [her] seriously now.” So we are feeling blessed.