"Potty, Mommy.", "'tory time.",
"Wanna dinka watta."
Seriously fighting nap-time here,
My itsy-bitsy daughter!
You can see she is a-wonderin'
How I can be so slow -
She knows exactly what she wants,
But can't quite tell me so!
Her little body wiggles,
Impatient? Oh, my, yes!
"How CAN my Mommy be so slow?!"
I cause her much distress!
Little legs are squirming;
Toes waving in the air.
Suddenly I'm recalling
A rhyme from who-knows-where.
"This little piggy went to market;
This little piggy stayed home."
Suddenly she's sitting still,
My energetic gnome.
"This little piggy had roast beef,"
(A favorite of her Dad.)
"But this little piggy got none."
(Her little face goes sad.)
I give a most theatric pause,
And, do I dare to mention?
For several minutes in a row,
I've had her full attention!
"And this little piggy..."
(Her eyes are wide with wonder,)
"Cried 'Wee-wee-wee-wee'" (shrieking,
She ducks as if from thunder!)
"....ALL the way home!"
(She laughs with pure delight.)
How can such silly counting games
Take her to such a height?
Even as I ask that question,
I look at my own self;
The memories we're forging here
Will ne'er adorn a shelf.
I cannot put them in a book
But I hold them in my heart,
For the day the two of us may be
Many miles or hours apart.
The moments that we share today,
Next year, or in a decade,
Will spin the thread that always keeps
Our love precious and protected.
So I take her little feet in hand
And wonder at their beauty;
And wonder where in life they'll take
My precious little cutie.
I hope she'll treasure all these times,
As I softly kiss their little bottom,
And as they dance her through her life,
I pray she'll not forget who taught 'em!
© 2001 Peggy Swycaffer
