On the window seal there is are two little cups holding an inch of dirt, three inches of mucky water, and some rocks, some crumbling leaves, and a bitty seed.  The child whose hands carefully prepared this mixture is yet to learn that the flower will never grow, no matter how much the sun shines and how many times she hold the cups under the kitchen faucet.
  Adorable.  
  No, the "s-word" is not "poop."  Then it would be called "the p-word," and the consequence would be much stronger than a quick hushing and scrunched brows.  But... well... your getting closer.
  Wild.
  If only I could grant those wishes.  Growing up to be a beautiful pink mermaid princess would be quite wonderful.
  Innocent.
  Oh, baby.  Keep that attitude, that smile, that naiveté.  Darling, fly!