You’re only happy when your sorry head is filled with dope, You’re ripped at every edge but you’re a masterpiece Everything is blue His pills, his hands, his jeans Everything is grey His hair, his smoke, his dreams
Can we take a moment to appreciate what a wonderful and weird kid Rosie will be because her dads are like the most ridiculous and insane people to ever raise a kid
- she’ll know the Latin names of all species of ants and swear like a sailor by the age of five
- she’ll be so confused the first time she learns other families don’t have a mini fridge solely devoted to body parts and chemistry experiments.
- her clothes will be a mix of knits and insanely expensive toddler clothes
- her hair will never be brushed and have clips half heartedly stuck in it to try and tame it
- her school lunches will consist of a peanut butter sandwich, juice box, an apple, and cryptic codes and notes
- she’ll go to the opera for birthdays and replay them later at home
- she’ll teacher herself to play all of her dads favorite music on the violin.
- perfect grammar and a beautiful vocabulary mingled with swearing
- she can recite all of Shakespeare’s sonnets after a single afternoons reading
- temper tantrums that include detailed and perfectly logical arguments as to why they should stay in the museum.
- deducing people to get what she wants
- sitting for hours “fwinking”
- having only science themed toys and known good the life’s stories of all the famous scientists.
- snuggling with her dads and watching BBC documentaries every Thursday
Like she’s the cutest, weirdest, smartest little bean to ever grace the earth