When I was messing with your hair that day, right after this picture was taken, my heart took a left when I figured it would have taken a right.

To the right would have been throwing you on the sofa and tickling you until you fart.
To the left was that place I accidentally stumble into every few months.
That place that looks, tastes, smells, and feels funny.
The last few strokes of your hair I imagined your father