Dear Me Lap up that comfort you seek in your Big Bow Wow, that giant stuffed dalmation that you love (that you loved so much you had at least 4 of them), because some day, your problems are going to be more than having no one to ride your bike with to BOB's for a slushie (blue rasberry. obvi) Stand proudly when you speak out during your poetry unit in third grade, because that is where, you will someday realize, sparks your love of writing. (You have the proof from Ms G's report card that you will find eons later, proving the point) When that mean boy Jeffrey knocks you down (sometimes weekly) onto the grass when you walk home from school, you will someday learn that he is a bully. You maybe realize it now but there will be a day that you will have the inner strength to stick up to bullies. For now, crying into your Mother's arms is okay. You are only 7. There will be a time when your black THE WHO t-shirt is not fashionable (either are harem pants, gouchos and ...
Mom, cancer survivor, and wanna be writer.