I Was Good At Digging Holes. It

Life Is For The Living. Don't Let The Fear Of Striking Out Let You From Keep You From Playing The Game.

I Watch Some Kids Ask The Cafeteria Ladies To Sign Their Books. What Do They Write: "hope Your Chicken Patties Never Bleed?" Or, Maybe, "may Your Jell-o Always Wiggle?

There Is Something About Christmas That Requires A Rug Rat. Little Kids Make Christmas Fun. I Wonder If Could Rent One For The Holidays. When I Was Tiny We Would By A Real Tree And Stay Up Late Drinking Hot Chocolate And Finding Just The Right Place For The Special Decorations. It Seems Like My Parents Gave Up The Magic When I Figured Out The Santa Lie. Maybe I Shouldn't Have Told Them I Knew Where The Presents Really Came From. It Broke Their Hearts.

A Breath Of Steam Trickles Out, Filled With The Sobs Of A Grown Woman Breaking Into Girl-sized Pieces.

What Do You Miss About Being Alive?" The Sound Of My Mom Singing, A Little Off-key. The Way My Dad Went To All My Swim Meets And I Could Hear His Whistle When My Head Was Underwater, Even If He Did Yell At Me Afterward For Not Trying Harder. I Miss Going To The Library. I Miss The Smell Of Clothes Fresh Out Of The Dryer. I Miss Diving Off The Highest Board And Nailing The Landing. I Miss Waffles" - P. 272.