Someone at daycare took out Lyla's pigtails and gave her a skeet-shootin', tobacco-chewin', pork-rind-eatin', Nascar-watchin' short-long, ape-drape, business-in-the-front, party-in-the-back mullet.
Sorry, sweetheart, makeup ain't gonna make up for that hairstyle.
When it's just Lyla and me in the house, I will sing to her the following: "Hey Lyla, shake your booty-booty. Shake your booty-booty." I'll leave the tune and rhythm to your imagination. Then some booty shaking ensues. And the day goes on.
"Dada, ake booby booby!" is how Lyla greeted me this afternoon. Niiice.
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