Scream for me, Long Beach!
i took my 5-year-old angel to the book store with only one condition: no barbie makeup books. so she picked out a 250-page collection of poetry. good girl. we get home and she cracks it open.
--daddy read me a pom
--that's poem honey
--read me a poem.
--what do you want to read?
--this!
she points to the open page. it's rime of the ancient mariner. i smile.
--honey, this is a story of what not to do when a bird poops on you.
--you're wierd daddy.
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