As in, just handed to me on a teeny piece of paper with even teenier writing:
The birthday
by Chickadee
The Cat Was sad.
No one will Come to his birthday.
he made a cake.
he made a game.
he made some party hats.
he had some balloons.
But… he had no Guest.
and… surprise.
The Guest are here.
They eat the Cake.
They play the Games.
The end.
I read it and clapped; I thought that was a pretty impressive solo endeavor, at 6. Her response?
“Mama, why are you applausing?”
Awww, I’m sorry you guys didn’t get to go to the movies. We didn’t get to go either. I suppose that’s one of the ones I’ll have to watch for in Netflix when it finally comes out. :0(
It could not be cuter. Much longer than my first poem, and much less angsty. :) Chickadee is a sweetie full of happy endings.
Too cute, I don’t even think I have that much talent!
I KNOW I don’t have that much talent.
*sigh*
Ah, that is stinking wonderful. I’m applauding too!
That is so precious! I’m clapping here too. :)