Some People (Ford)

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Child-to-Adulthood!Reader
The Rest is a Surprise! Get Over it!

Some people are tall

Some people are short

Some people have long hair

Some people have short hair

Some people like girls

Some people like guys

Some people like neither

Some people like both

Some people have grandparents

I have a grunkle (he's not my grunkle, but I call him that anyway!)

Some people have five fingers

My grunkle has six (isn't he the coolest?!)

Some people are dark

Some people are light

Some people are snow

Some people are stars

Some people are good

Some people are bad

Some people have penises

Some people have vag

Some people fight interdimensional space demons

Some people fight politics

In the end of my poem

All people are people

     The crowd slowly began to clap, one by one, as the words falling from the child's mouth struck them in the heart. The child blushed, hiding their face behind the paper their poem was on. The crowd cheered and whooped and hollared at the message thrown at them from a little child, one raised in a society where everyone was equal, no matter what color your skin was, no matter what sexuality you were, no matter what religion you practiced. The adults in the crowd remembered the fight it took to have equality for all people, and they were grateful their efforts were passed to their children.

     Stanford Pines, the (adoptive) great uncle of this child, smiled proudly at this child, as his great niece, Mabel Pines, and great nephew, Dipper Pines, jumped from their seats and dashed to their little sibling to lift them into the air. His brother, Stanley Pines, patted him on the shoulder, "We certainly helped raise a pretty good kid, didn't we, Sixer?" Ford sighed in content, interlocking his fingers. The scientist was proud of what had become of these children, especially Reeder. They were younger than Dipper and Mabel, but they had already begun to bloom into their own personality. Selfless, ready to defend their family, but smart, knowing when to drop the ball.

     "Grunkle Ford?"

     A small voice called to him, pulling him from his thoughts.

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