No Matter What

On any given day, you can usually find Eleanore lining up her toy kitties in the corner of the couch, arranging them just so, so that all of their whiskers touch and they're all holding beanie filled paws. And if shes not doing that, then shes probably got her nose stuffed into the crease of a forty year old copy of Where The Wild Things Are, borrowed from the base library. And if shes not doing that, well then maybe shes playing on the back porch inside of her handmade-by-a-friend tee pee, scooting around in a much-too-small coupe car, or fighting with her brother over the the plastic swirly drill at the tool set.



And even when shes out of her mind angry with me- kicking and throwing punches, grabbing anything in sight and throwing it against the wall- shes still breathtakingly gorgeous to me.

Eleanore, I still love you when you're mad at me. I still love you when I'm mad at you. Nothing will ever prevent our love from loving. Not even the plastic swirly drill at the tool set.