Saturday, September 26, 2009

Be My Baby

No matter how big she gets,


or how smart;


No matter how dramatic she gets,


She'll always be my baby.

Even when she spends an hour before bed putting on a spoken word poetry jam about "The Wicked Angel Satan" who dressed up in a snake costume and took away Adam and Eve's perfect happiness complete with arm waving and snaps at strategic intervals, with certain words punctuate by a dramatic pose. And then quizzes me on the content of her poetry. And tells me "Thanks for stepping up!" because I "volunteered" after she said "Anyone in the room want to tell me what that poem was about? In detail?"

She cracks me up.
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