20 September, 2013


I don't remember why she was crying.  
And I certainly don't remember what I did to comfort her.  Most likely with an "Oh, you're fine." 
But I am so glad I got this face caught forever.

Those cheeks.
Those crystal blue persuaders.
The absence of lips, just like her mother.

You are a constant reminder of what childhood really should look like:
Scraped knees.
Snotty nose.
Juice mustache.
Dirty feet.

You are my sweetest goose.  


  1. I saw her run/prance out the door Tuesday night and down the street. I definitely wouldn't be able to catch her.

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