You’ve told me about two of your dreams.

you told me that you have a recurring nightmare about the skin on your hands peeling off. Did I do that to you? Did I freak you out over athlete’s foot spreading? I wanted you to take it seriously but I didn’t want to scare you. I’m so sorry. Or is it because of your eczema? Oh I hate that you have it. I don’t even know what to do. You have an appointment this Friday. Hopefully we can get it fixed. Your poor skin.

your other dream, you told me and Dad in the kitchen. You said. Ou had a dream that an older, bureau tidal lady was trying to kiss you. I prayed immediately that you wouldn’t get ideas in your head that were sexual. You are only eight. You said she looked like She-ra. I worried about the outfit giving you ideas. You said she had a princess dress and she wanted a kiss and you ran away. But you were blushing. And I loved it. But I hate it. 

Youre only eight.

please, please stop growing.

i love you. Thank you for still being willing to hold my hand.


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