Love in an Elevator
No, the title is not what you think. I know, Aerosmith is playing in your head right now, right? This is just a little story about the sweet innocence of a child. The Faith of a child. The belief of a child. I have had the privilege to work at the school that my little one attends. This is our last year together. It has been one of my joys! We come in together, I see her at lunch every day and sometimes we eat together. I get to go by her classroom for special events. We leave at the end of the day together. I will miss her so much when she moves to the intermediate school next year. At our little school we have two floors, which allows for a small elevator. Granted it only goes two floors, but Addison loves it. She loves taking the elevator everyday upstairs to leave. I on the other hand would rather walk the stairs, it just seems faster. When we ride it I pretend that I can do magic and make the door open and close, Addison hates it when I do this. I love to aggravate her. The