Her eyes are the same color as mine.

She likes that fact.  Our hair color isn't the same.  Our skin tone is a little different.  She likes Hannah Montana and I like Madonna.  Our personalities clash, like ancient cymbals.  We rarely get along.  She is, and will always be, the true testament of my faith.  But.  Our eyes are the same.

"Why do you always smile, when you look at me?"

"Because I am in love. With you."  I confessed while hunched over the bath tub washing her hair.  I was unaware that I was smiling.  A huge stupid grin planted across my face which she clearly read easier than a Dr. Suess book.  I stared into the deep abyss of her eyes.  Each brown freckle in her pupil a mirror image of my own.  Incredible.  The similarities. She moved the bubbles around in the tub and whispered, "You always smile with your eyes. When you look at me.  Why?"

"One day.  When you have a daughter so spectacular as you.  You will understand everything, when you look into her eyes."

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