When He Sees Me
when he sees me -
and mine, too" - Shelley Krause (on love)
Here are some photos that Satch took of me. I didn't even know that he was taking some of them because he has the camera in his hand so often.
"Mama's boobie...
I squeeze it?"
NO
"Like a cow?"
NO
"No...mama's not a cow...
mama's a wimin".
"Mama's vest...
Mama's cold...
those gears?"
It's a zipper."Zipper gears?"
Mama?"
Yes"I play in sink now!"
Robert stayed home today, because I'm sicker than last week and on antibiotics. I have no voice. There was an ice storm last night and everything looks like it's sealed in glass. And the talented poet Shelley has self-published her own book of Haiku and I want one, don't you?
Labels: ds
1 Comments:
'Mamas a wimin' - I like it :-)
Reminds me of a funny cow/woman conversation I had with H when she was about three. We had visited a farm on the morning and saw a cow being milked. I pointed out the udders and we chatted about them as you do. Later we were in a shopping centre toilet with a whole load of people just outside waiting their turn. There was a big gap at the top and the bottom of the door and H asked really loudly - 'hey mum, do you want some toilet roll to blot your udder?' I sure got some strange looks when we came out of there :-)
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