My darling daughter Hanna turned 5 the other day.
She asked if she could dress as a big girl now, and I told her it was OK.
But as I put the frosting upon her birthday cake,
she came out from the bathroom; and I cried: "for goodness' sake!"
She'd stuffed my bra wth rolled-up socks,
and used plenty of spray to tame her locks.
She staggered around in my high-heeled shoes;
a thong revealed a non-existant caboose.
Her tummy was bare, and with the warpaint one almost mistook her
for a 4 feet tall, skinny, little hooker.
Then she opened her mouth and summoned my fears:
-"Look, mum! I look just like Britney Spears!"
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