Saturday, August 05, 2006
10 babies on a log, Lookin' over the bogAnd then it repeats, à al "99 Bottles of Beer," subtracting one baby each time until we're down to "No more babies on a log ..." Usually, I'm laying on my back with my legs crossed and Quinn is sitting on the leg that's parallel to the ground. Sometimes she looks worried; other times she's giggly about it.
In comes the fog, up comes a 'gator
Uh-oh baby, see you later!
© 2003–2010 T. Carter Ross