Maisey's Love

I didn't know the sunlight 'till she brought it to the house, or how much better pancakes are when shaped like Mickey Mouse. I've learned that giving horsey rides can carpet burn your knees; that lunch is not complete without that gormet Mac and cheeze. She'll climb in the recliner and hop up on my lap, if I am quick to promise she's not there to take a nap, and what an easy thing it is when it comes time to chose, the two of us and Sponge Bob or just me and evening news. We watch the Disney movies, every witch and cartoon dog, Schrek and Harry Potter, every Princess, every frog. The table in the dining room's a Kingdom end to end; Cinderellea's plastic castle's there and every molded friend. I've learned to loosen Play Dough up when it's sat out too long, and when I'm singing Taylor swift, I get the lyrics wrong. A crayon beats a marker for original design, and it ain't real important that we stay inside the line. She finds my taste in literature is just a bit obtuse, 'cause there aren't any Princesses in books by Doctor Suess. Outside to build a snow man, her giggles keep me young; love is watching Maisey catch the snowflakes on her tongue.