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Girls Riot Into 2023
Six-year-olds throw rager at Futura’s house, eat cake, wear, costumes, watch movie, make unearthly screaming din
And with that, the end of the third calendar year of this cursed pandemic and the blessed publication of The Daily Kina. Kina is now six, and the year is now 2023, and the time she spends with her friends is more independent and sassy and full of nonsense drama that sometimes makes all the friends cry at the very same time.
Faithful readers will recall that we spent last New Year’s Eve with Futura, too. In that short newsletter, I offered the wish that “…this year (the third calendar year of this august publication) [might] be better, for all of us, than the last.” The good thing about Kina’s childhood, in the main, is that each year is a bit better than the last—in the sense that Kina has become something greater this year than she was a year ago (though she was no less cute in 2021 than today, I’d offer). Kids, in other words (if you are lucky), trend towards improvement.
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Our own lives, accordingly, were better this year than the last. With the notable exception of that time I stopped my bike with my front teeth, we have prospered by our association with The Publisher and her many gains. We get to see her thrive and grow and expand, and the many trivial and tedious offerings of life feel a bit more purposeful for it. If she’s cool—in other words—I’m cool.
Faithful readers, again, know that I do not make resolutions, mostly because I hate to let anybody down—myself included—and so find that lowered expectations are the best way to deliver an outstanding year. And yet! Here we are at the very dawn of 2023, and Kina is off to sleep in her (new) loft bed after a beautiful day that I’ll get to write about tomorrow, and Laurea and I are comfy and safe and healthy on the couch, and I find myself hoping, at least, for the best in this coming year—if only because we delivered on that same promise from last year. Same song, in other words. New verse.
From last year, New Year’s Eve with one friend, to this year with four.
From no adult teeth to two.
From ticky-tacky reading skills to sometimes stunning (if hilarious) fluency.
From kindergarten to first grade.
From triumph to triumph.
So here’s to next year. To more friends. To more lentils for good luck. To more Kina, more health, more strength in ourselves, to greater resolve.
There will be tears this year, if only because that’s how years work, but if there’s half as much joy as we got this year, we’ll be on a solid foundation. To you, and your joy, and the joy and health and courage of your people.
Welcome to the next year of this.
Another smallish-format Parade from our innovative art director, who innovated this cover on Saturday afternoon—not wanting to have to draw it on Sunday, which was smart, because two thirds of this house was kinda hung over and was glad to not have to pester her for a Parade.
The little child in the air is Otis. Kina has thrown him there.
Happy New Year!
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