Between Bruises and Blooms

Most days,

she’s my Gabby Goose.

Soft cheeks.

Sleepy cuddles.

Tiny giggles that make the whole house lighter.

But every now and then…

Goosifer appears.

She grins with the confidence of someone who’s absolutely about to do the one thing I just said no to.

She steals toys.

Runs away laughing.

Climbs first.

Thinks later.

Looks me dead in the eyes while making the worst possible decision…

and somehow makes it adorable.

She’s chaos

wrapped in baby curls,

mischief

with chubby cheeks,

and trouble

wearing footie pajamas.

She is my little Goosifer.

And honestly…

I wouldn’t have her any other way.