Dear Mr. David Beckham,

She called me over with a hushed 11-year old smile and barely contained mirth. “Look!” she giggle-whispered, as she pointed to her mom’s travel toiletries case; a case which now contained a giant David Beckham magazine photo and handwritten notes such as

“Hey Becca,
I love you.
Love, David”

and

“Hey babe, you’re hot!
Love,
Davie-Boy.”

She looked at me, and I started giggling too and couldn’t stop.

“I love it.” I said.

And I do.

other posts regarding the mysterious MDL