It all began as we were standing in front of the bathroom mirror, me fixing Amanda's blonde hair. I said, “I love you, Amanda.” “And, I love you,” she replied. “Oh, yeah,” I taunted. “Well, I love you more.” Her eyes lit up as she recognized the cue for the start of another “I love you more” match. “Nuh-uh,” she laughed, “I love you the most.” “I love you bigger than a volcano!” I countered—a favorite family phrase in these battles of love. “But, Mom, I love you from here to China.” A country she's learning about from our new neighbors up the street. We volleyed back and forth a few favorite lines. “I love you more than peanut butter.” “Well, I love you more than television.” “I even love you more than bubble gum.” It was my turn again, and I made the move that usually brings victory. “I love you bigger than the universe!” On this day, however, Amanda was not going to give up. I could see she was thinking. “Mom,” she said in a quiet voice, “I love you more than myself.”I stopped. Dumbfounded，overwhelmed by her sincerity. Here I thought I knew more than she did. I thought I knew at least everything that she knew. However, my four-year-old daughter knows more about love than her 28-year-old mom.
