Well. It was bound to happen.
She turned 13.
To celebrate, she hung out with her teen cousins and siblings to spray graffiti at Cadillac Ranch in Amarillo. We were there for such a sad reason, but we looked for the joy in the sorrow.
My favorite hoodlums.
She wiped away silent tears at her Aunt’s funeral and carried herself like a lady. She’s deep and soulful.
She wears perfume, saves her babysitting money for manicures and dabbles in eye shadow. She’s taller than I am, her fashion sense puts mine to shame and last week I borrowed something from her.
It’s all happening too fast. I’m trying to soak it in and enjoy the topsy-turvy ride. Thankfully, she still holds fast to “No Boys Allowed.”
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