I'm late turning in an essay on being a grandfather. But it's hard to work when this kind of cuteness is just across the living room. It's coming Oh Queen of the Bay area who ought to be Queen of the MidWest. Bask in the reflected glow of the cutest babies in the history of the world.
How can a grandpa be expected to concentrate on anything else when there is such cuteness around?
At least you have the inspiration for the essay at hand.
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