Baker's Dozen
Thirteen is a baker’s dozen,
Or a scary Friday night.
Missing in an elevator,
Or a 12-year-old’s delight.
Rite of passage from a tweener,
Cooler in so many ways.
Does it bring a new demeanor?
That’s for others to appraise.
An impish grin and razor wit
Make it hard to guess the years.
Daddy’s girl still loves to snuggle;
Raging, crying, full of tears.
Thirteen is an awkward age, yes,
Not a child, but not yet grown.
A scant few years, she’ll spring the cage;
My oh my, the years have flown!
So here is our birthday prayer:
May your year abound in glee.
Careful to avoid the pitfalls;
led by Christ, our precious Ree.
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(a birthday card inscription on the occasion of Ree’s 13th birthday, so, a few years ago)
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