On Bentlee and Axe Body Spray.

Can't help but wonder how your days have been going, baby.

Eyes refusing to stay open when they're supposed to be… refusing to close when they're supposed to be doing that.

Maybe discovering that you have a new mortal enemy, and it's some kid named Bentlee who smells of far, far too much Axe body spray…

Trying hard to enjoy everything, to take it all in, but having to fight your traitorous body to do so…

Sound about right?

If so… well… I'm hoping you got back to your bed tonight, maybe tried to read a little something-or-other… but before you knew it, your eyes finally did what they were supposed to do: closed.

Giving you the reset you need. Helping you find the patience your position requires. Giving you just enough fuel to stay awake during performances you'll never forget… even if you missed a bar or two last time (shhhh… I won't tell!)

Well. One way or the other, babe… I hope you're good. And I'm certain you will be.

Miss you. Because of course I do. And I'll tell you every day, if you want me to.

Love you.

Because of course I do.

And I'll tell you that every damn day, too.

If you want me to.

Sleep tight, my sweet tea. Or good morning, more likely.

Love you.

Miss you.

Yours.