All Things Books
Ickle me, Pickle me, tickle me too...What a great ride. I never decided what I wanted to be when I grew up simply because I never grew up inside. The harsh reality of being a grown up happens way too soon, and reading things like this are like having grandma's comforter thrown over you when you fall asleep on the rug.
Gordon, Thanks, this visual makes me like the poem even better!