In my dream, little Miss Independent looked over her bare shoulder and stared right into my eyes. I was almost too distracted by her bright blues and flawless skin to notice one dimpled hand gripping a cigarette.
|The next generation?|
Then she blew smoke rings at me.
Go ahead. Psychoanalyze me.
She'll be one in a couple of months. ONE. I've pinned a few ideas for her party.
So much happens in a year.
Next week, I'm helping celebrate a friend's book birthday. So, check back for your chance to win an autographed copy of an award winning--and hilarious--book.