9 June 2014
I jot down new giggles as they happen,
Saving it for when I’m slammed by depression.
It will happen again eventually,
How long it lasts is up to me.
I do all I can to nip it in the butt,
The moment it starts growing in my gut.
I walk and think cute memories,
When fog doesn’t mess up my laugh treasury.
Latest treasure added:
Grand-daughter: “Meme, when I stretch the skin on your face like this, you look like a little girl!”
Me with much enthusiasm: “Can you do that?”
She looks at my face, looks at her little hands, then looks me straight in the eyes and says…
“Meme, I don’t have enough fingers.”
If she ever learns about the wonders of duct tape, my face will be in serious sticky trouble.