
Someday we wont live here anymore. I want to remember every detail. Every evening when we pick up dad from work you both say "Can you park by the bars mom!?" And I do, and you do this. But not before Moses, you run into the building to tell Dad we are here and grab yourself some blue gloves. You like to blow them up and call them "balloony". What goofs, I love you so much, you make me laugh.
No comments:
Post a Comment