Z may look exactly like her father. She may have his weird mannerisms (they both randomly cross their legs in the middle of the night). She may have the same odd likings as him (ketchup and tamales? DISGUSTING!). But one thing she did inherit from me is her sense of humor.

Last night I wasn’t feeling to peachy. Z went downstairs and 15 minutes later returned upstairs with an envelope. The above was enclosed.

The “GET ME OUT OF HERE” kills me. I love her.