The memory notifications on Facebook regularly throws up some forgotten gems. Yesterday I saw this, written in a Mother’s Day card by my then seven-year old daughter:
Mummy you are the prettiest, loveliest Mummy who is forty-three. I’m sorry I said I wouldn’t do your shopping when you wouldn’t let me go on Facebook. If you died in September I wouldn’t celebrate this day but I’d say prayers at your graveside.
Wow! Some of daddy’s poetic genes in there!
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I’ll take it as a compliment π
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What a pip your daughter is. She never fails to make me laugh. You and your wife are blessed!
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That we are π we leave the house in the morning to walk to school and she talks non-stop until we are there. “I’ll finish it when you pick me up at home time.” π
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Your daughter is hilarious!
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She is-without intending to be π
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I hope she never loses that charming ability to say just what’s on her mind!
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It’s an endearing quality to keep π
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