This little butterfly is making me crazy with her independence and sass.
She can’t be held down by “the man”… that would be me in this case.
As it turns out she can’t be held down at all. Why do toddlers never stop moving? I feel like I’m trying to tame a beautiful wild butterfly. Correction, a beautiful wild butterfly with Matt’s whole entire face.
My butterfly can’t be tamed; she’s got places to go, people to visit, hearts to break.
Mostly mine. Occasionally her fathers.
When she finally get’s her wings- that sass and smile will take her further than even she can imagine.
