Saturday, December 4, 2010

Poetry, Etc.

John was climbing up the windshield and on top of the car.

"Look at how bold John is, Sarah."

"Daddy, I'm not bald, you're bald."

***

We were driving to the library in the late afternoon.

"Daddy, the sun is the eye of death."

***

"It looks like Christmas, Daddy."

"Why do you say that, John?"

"Because I like to."