My Daughter is like a Dandelion.

She is whimsical, delicate, and just sort of wisps about.  Her heart is light and happy, and she stands straight and tall. 

And she repopulates like a weed.  Little bits of her pop up all over, a pile of jeans in the bathroom.  Her book bag overflows and cascades onto the foyer floor.  And her toys just sort of crop up randomly in patches all through out the house.  If I am not particularly diligent, I will find that at any given time her tiny self has claimed yet another room for her to overcome.

She is cute and overwhelming.  And she kind of flourishes where ever she finds herself.