be wary. perhaps you might end up in my novel.

the first name would be yours my child.

the magnet towards your heart is pulling me.

we would float down the river of this life, cultivating moments that hold only paradise.

tiny fingers grasp sticky knives.

smearing colour onto these simple white cookies.

my smile quietly stretches across my face and stays. making my face muscles cramp.

it's that happy. hearts beat & i hold in giggles.

effectively the floor is energetically covered in many blops of colourful icing & tiny round sprinkles ran across the flooring, jumping & rolling. happy chatter floats to the wooden ceiling & pudgy hands stuff cookies into stained mouths. eyes light up as new colours are placed before them. excited ooohhs & aaaahs as a hot pan of horse shapes lands on the cooling rack.

somehow a rich amount of icing, enough for 10 cookies, lands on each cookie. teeth breaking sprinkles are skillfully dumped.

joy.

genuine joy.

delight.

rosy cheeks & sparkling eyes. christmas happiness painted across thier child faces.

& my heart is glad. & theirs are too.

the tiny girls & me share fist bumps.

& they walk out through the swirling snow.

we aren't blessed with tiny siblings.

but we can always have tiny friends.