Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Memoirs

We were playing in the backyard today. You love it so much. "This is my backyard!" my boy proudly exclaims. You come running inside when I tell you it's time for lunch.

When I buckle you into your highchair I smell dillweed in your hair.

I didn't think I could die from happiness again until I smelt dill in your hair.

Joy is in small things now.

 
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