what maggie wrote

And this, too:

dmd
Let’s see…

He’s this boy who sitting behind me, trying to read over my shoulder what I’m writing about

him.

He’s this silly bug, gelfling, bliss-child who won’t stop talking about sex with monkeys.

He thinks women are better than men (mostly because he spent his childhood playing with the girls; the boys wouldn’t stop throwing dinosaurs at him).

He’s this intense whirlwind of intelligence and knowledge, kept at bay by a startling lack of common sense (he came to pick me up from class wearing sandals — its about 40 degrees outside)

What else can i say? I adore him.