That baby grew.

She grew and she grew and she grew. She grew until she was Four years-old.

She refused to eat anything but candy and drink anything but chocolate milk or grape juice.
She would only wear pink dresses and she would always be a sleepyhead-grump-bucket in the morning.
Oftentimes her mother would fear what she was in for when this Four year-old turned sixteen.

But sometimes, late at night, if that Four year-old girl was really sleeping...
That mother would sneak into her bedroom and cuddle up next to that sleeping girl, on that creaky bed.
She would rub the girl's tummy and kiss her cheeks and think to herself,

"I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living, my baby you'll be -- and thank God for you."