a full blown child

Who is this writhing monster, smacking her toothless jaws together to form the word "dada?" Not the bub I delivered into this world in September who snugged tight under my neck to sleep. This new wiggle machine has suddenly figured out there's more to this world than just my face, my boobs and a collection of soothers. Her hands are pretty much the greatest thing she's ever seen. She looks at them like they're leaving tracers; she's tripping on psychedelic titjuice.
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