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Carmen wrote this letter with her hand on her pregnant belly and amillion dreams in her head. Dear ArdenWill you like to read like mummy? Will you be good at math likedaddy? Your favourite colour? Your favourite hobby? Scrap-booking orsound engineering? Your taste of music? (Please dont like that doof doofmusic of daddy ;I)Will you be dark or fair? Shy? Popular? Short or tall? Will you talka lot like mummy or be quiet like daddy? Will you like to dance? Andhow on earth am I going to convince you to eat your veggies when bothdaddy and I dont eat ours? Your favourite food? Athletic or poetic orboth?Youll probably like singing... Whose eyes will you have? I hopeyou have daddys long eye lashes. And will you be grumpy or full ofjokes? Writing or drawing? I hope you are born knowing how to styleyour own hair (and mine) because girl, ma is clueless. Oh Arden I think of these things and it cheers me up, it keeps megoing. You keep me going. Even on the worst day, you give me purposein the best way...