“First, the Lord: No tattoos. You can not Chinese symbol of truth, and Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo slick tender their hind legs.
She is beautiful, but not damaged, as is the damage that draws the eye of football coach creepy, not beauty.
When crystal meth is offered, can I remind parents to cut the grapes in half and stick with beer.
Guide it, protect it across the street, stepping on the boat, swimming in the sea, swimming pools, walking around, standing on the subway platform, across the street 86, lowering the boats with bathrooms mall , up and down escalators, driving on country roads, while arguing, based on large windows, walk in the park, riding Ferris wheels, roller coasters, log slides, or anything called “Drop hell,” “Tower of Torture, “or” The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Roll with Aerosmith Zero G, “and stand on any balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.
Took her away from acting, but not all the way to the Treasury. Something she can make your own schedule, but still feel intellectually satisfied and go out sometimes and not have to wear high heels. What would be, Lord? Architecture? Obstetrics? Golf course design? I ask because if I did, I would be doing, Youdammit.
Let her play the drums at the rate of fire of his own heart with the force of their own strong arms, so you do not have to be with the drummers.
Granted a run of twelve horses seventeen.Let draw and be interested in Barbies for too long, for children is short – a magenta flower to flower tiger for a day – and adulthood is long and dry-humping cars will wait.
Oh Lord, break the Internet forever, that can be spared the invective misspelled their peers and online marketing campaign for the shelter Rape V: Girls Just Want to Get stabbed.
And when day turns to me and calls me a bitch in front of Hollister, Give me strength, Lord, to its pull directly into a taxi in front of his friends, because they do not have that shit. I will not.
And if she chooses to be a mother someday be my eyes, Lord, I can see her lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 AM, all-at-once exhausted, bored, and love with the little creature whose stern is leaking to the back. “My mother did this to me once,” will realize that she cleans the stool out of your baby’s neck. “My mother did this to me.” And gratitude delay washes over it as does every generation to make a mental note to call me. And she will forget. But I know because I looked through the eyes of God.
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