She was once a little glowworm and now she can perform a wedgie dance.
If you’re missing a bear I know where it’s spending its nights.
This does not mean I’m going to stop making jokes about heavenly underwear.
The final moments of our morning at home before I drop her off at third grade.
The soundtrack to this is dueling banjos and the thud of a wad of chewing tobacco as it hits the ground.
Staving off boredom one bullet point at a time.
A public apology to my siblings who will flash an evil, knowing grin when they read this.
Her DNA is kicking in, and we’re watching it happen from day to day.
This should replace that inspirational poster of that pathetic kitten.
I will forgive them for not making me a hot dog.