(sob) a luvvy poem to a best girlfriend

Kimmy is moving away.

Rather than giving her one single solitary more thing to pack, I am going to give her this poem/book/run-on sentence. It's called I like you. It was written by Sandol Stoddard Warburg in 1965. I wasn't born yet. But I sold lots of copies of this book once I read it, so I figure Sandol won't mind if I re-post it online.

I like you
And I know why

I like you because
You are a good person
To like

I like you because

When I tell you something special
You know it's special
And you remember it
A long long time

You say
Remember when you told me
Something special

And both of us remember


When I think something is important
You think it's important too

We have good ideas

When I say something funny

You laugh

I think I'm funny
You think I'm funny too
hah-hah

...

And I like you because
When I am feeling sad
You don't always cheer me up right away

Sometimes it is better to be sad
You can't stand the others being so googly and gaggly every single minute
You want to think about things

It takes time

I like you because if I am mad at you
Then you are mad at me too

It's awful when the other person isn't

Phooey

They are so nice and hoo-hoo you could just about punch them in the nose

I like you because if I think I am going to throw up then you are really sorry
You don't just pretend you are busy looking at the birdies and all that

You say maybe it was something you ate

You say the same thing happened to me one time

And the same thing did

If you find two four-leaf clovers
You give me one

If I find four
I give you two

If we only find three
We keep on looking

Sometimes we have good luck
And sometimes we don't

...

I like you because
I don't know why but
Everything that happens
Is nicer with you

I can't remember when I didn't like you

It must have been lonesome then

I like you because because
I forget why I like you
But I do

So many reasons

On the Fourth of July I like you because
It's the Fourth of July

On the Fifth of July
I like you too

If you and I had some drums
And some horns and some horses
If we had some hats and some
Flags and some fire-engines

We could be a HOLIDAY
We could be a CELEBRATION
We could be a WHOLE PARADE
See what I mean?

Even if it was the nine-hundred-and-ninety-ninth of July
Even if it was August
Even if it was way down at the bottom of November
Even if it was no place particular in January

I would go on choosing you
And you would go on choosing me
Over and over again

That's how it would happen every time
I don't know why

I guess I don't know why I like you really

Why do I like you

I guess I just like you

I guess I just like you

Because I like you

Sweet Jeebus that was a whole lot longer than I thought it would be. That's how much I love you, Kimmy. I feel this way about most people who make it into the inner Circle of Jen, but Kimmy is the one who told me I ought to blog, and who adores my son as much as me, and shit, she's KIMMY, the coolest, most generous, sweetest person on the planet. She's also witty and sarcastic as fuck, and is not at all traumatized when the word fuck falls outta my mouth.

I FUCKIN' love you, Kim.

And uh, Ahem. If Sandol Stoddard Warburg or someone representing S.S. Warburg is upset about my republishing most of their tiny gift book (ISBN 0-395-01716-3), please let me know and I'll remove it.

Photos of our drunken sob-fest to be posted once I locate my damned USB cable.