Kelsey climbed into my bed this morning, all lean and long and beautiful.
"You're so pretty," I said. "Sometimes I wonder how I made you."
She smiled and rubbed my arm.
"You used to be pretty," she said.
– Wait, it gets better. –
"Used to be?" I winced.
"How can you be pretty when you have bags under your eyes and you’re all wrinkly and pimply and you can see your big pores and your hair’s gray and all messed up?"
I no longer wonder how I made her. Now I just wonder why.
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7 comments:
I am thinking you slept in a cave for that girl.
Happy Birthday to you, late. The kids at my school who bring joy to my heart, this week brought fire to my throat and snot to my nose.
And, with only 5 days left, I almost made it out.
I've been looking in the mirror and thinking exactly the same thing.
Takes a child to tell us that though.
Day-um. That's a kid with a death wish.
She won't be that open and honest in a coupla years. Even if it hurts, you gotta love that directness.
Lisa, you crack me up. Sorry about the year-end illness. Bummer.
Aims, I've earned every wrinkle and gray hair. I could do without the zits, though. Embrace your age!
RC, she really thought she was being sweet when she told me I used to be pretty. It was intended as a compliment. Like the time I told a guy he wasn't as ugly as I had been expecting. Oops.
Marcia, she's already starting to pull away. :(
I seem to remember that your rabbit cage had room in it for another occupant...
Christian, she'd probably enjoy herself too much.
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