Andrew the new,
Dancing in your mother’s womb,
We await your arrival,
For any day now you’ll bloom.
Wonderful, you will be
with 10 little fingers and 10 tiny toes.
The perfect beautiful gift,
kissed with a cute button nose.
You were a surprise,
but a delight indeed.
Sometimes you danced so hard
that your mother peed.
(A poem for #5, my soon to arrive grandson.)
via Daily Prompt: Dancing
Dancing Baby Boy
Sand in my swimsuit.
Low light photography.
My middle aged memories.
Today’s daily prompt.
I’m sorry this sounds like the random answers to some family night board game category, but it’s all I’ve got tonight. I take that back, I’m not really sorry; I like game night!
Photo credit: https://stocksnap.io/photo/1PXZR3FSA2
Daily Post Word Prompt: Grit
I’ve lived in my house for 12 years. It was newly constructed with a freshly landscaped yard. My daughters were teenagers when we moved in. We had a dog and two cats.
My children have since married and moved out. There is only one dog left. The yard is well established.
My house has more grit now though than ever before. Grit on the floor. Grit on the sofas. Ugh, it’s infuriating. You know what causes all this ridiculousness?
I love them dearly, but they are the grittiest little people on the planet. 2 of them I keep 3 or 4 days a week. The other 2 visit every month or so. And they all leave grit on everything. Grit, grit, and more grit.
In the story of Hansel and Gretel the children left bread crumbs on purpose to find their way home, but that’s just nonsense. They would have left gritty crumbs without even trying!
The best and worst part about all of this is number 5 is going to bring his gritty little self up in here in a couple of months, and if I was a betting woman, I’d say number 6 won’t be far behind.
Congratulations Nonie, you’re the proud grandmother of all these gritty grandbabies!
But oh what Grand Grit it is!!!
I love you Babyman, Princess Crazy Pants, Prom King, Dr. Evil and Number 5. Even if you’re gritty, you are all my favorites!
You talk too much.
You search, listen, and gather intel to fill your coffers.
You draw conclusions that aren’t yours to draw.
You tell stories that aren’t yours to tell.
You give advice where it wasn’t asked.
You stalk one’s virtual world and perhaps the real one too.
You think you know; you don’t know.
You aren’t one of Scooby’s friends; your meddling doesn’t solve crime.
You aren’t worth your weight in meddle.
Daily Prompt: meddle