When I was little, R was a letter that escaped my speaking grasp.
Oh, so sweet. Pulls at my heart strings.
I hold dear the sound of my son, hoisting a plunger over his cape, and calling out ‘Luperman!’
Oh, so sweet. Pulls at my heart strings.
I hold dear the sound of my son, hoisting a plunger over his cape, and calling out ‘Luperman!’