Currently I am taking a quick blogging break from our evening activity as selected by you. Your sister and I are voluntarily sitting with you on the couch watching a documentary about Justin Bieber, the boy you freely refer to as your boyfriend (along with about seventeen thousand other girls aged five to fifteen). This movie, this boy, his white skinny jeans, and his "singing" are all just downright painful.
When the day comes that you accuse me of not loving you, I will quickly pull up this blog post and remind you that on a free Monday evening I sat with you while we viewed this movie together. If this singular act isn't a clear indication of the depth of my love for you, I don't know what is.
Somebody to love,