still can sit her on my knee.
Pictured in her sandbox now,
even there she brings a “Wow!”
Won’t be long she’ll be in heels,
driving ’round in her own wheels.
Time might stop but not for long,
wish it would be I’d be wrong.
She’ll grow to what she will become,
then to nostalgia I’ll succumb.
Into a woman she will fit,
I hope I’m still around for it.