You were asked to draw what you predicted you’d look like in 100 years:
I, too, hope that at age 100 you are doing jazz hands with your cane.
Dear Little –
“She’s up all night to the sun.
She’s up all night to get some.
She’s up all night for good fun.
She’s up all night to get lucky.”
Someday you’ll discover that the song “Get Lucky, ” a song you request so you can bop your head on your way to Kindergarten most days, isn’t about staying up late, eating lots of cotton candy and being lucky enough see a shooting star.