Last night I started randomly receiving a series of text messages from daughter Ashley. At first, I thought she was sending me silly things my grandsons say. Just recently she sent me a note saying that Sullivan had asked if she could go get his “Granny baby” for him. Sullivan comes up with the most outrageous sayings. I think he’s in training for Comedy Central, but these texts were sent well past Sullivan’s bedtime.
I realized it was poetry Ashley was sending. Ridiculously bad poetry: “You are the bubble in my bath. The plush in my towel. The vanilla in my candle.”