Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Ode to Wyatt..

Last night I got kicked in the face, by a tiny little man.
It was a surprise attack, and zoom, off he ran.
But not before he slapped my face, followed by a maniacal laugh.
He knocked over the garbage can and growled, proving his wrath.
He demanded that I feed him and proceeded to make a mess.
The floor ate more than he did, and most ended up on my dress.
He lifted his arms, as if to say, “Come on! Pick me up!”
I obeyed, my reward, a swift kick in the stomach.
On the floor he sat, but he was not still for too long.
He crawled onto the dog who (I could tell) felt he was wronged.
Next he targeted the hallway, trailing destruction in his wake.
I tried to minimize the damage, but it was more than I could take.
I heard his rumblings and the clatter of things being thrown around.
I heard the squeals of delight as he marveled in the items he’d found.
He sounded like a caveman would, a modern missing link.
I arrived just in time before he escaped under the sink.
I grabbed his chubby little legs and gently brought him out.
I used all my strength, just to lift him, as this tiny man was stout.
He rubbed his eyes, gave a great big yawn, and laid his head upon my shoulder.
For a moment, a little moment, I wished that he would never grow older.
Moments like these are poignant reminders of just how fast time goes.
Then he pulled my hair, poked me in the eye and put his thumb up my nose

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