Its a Tough Life Being a Toddler
When he walks – a jogging walking stumble,
Hands flap while moving,
Heavy feet plonk onto the floor,
The dull foot tapping of a toddler,
Where he wants to play, other toddlers live,
Pushing, frowning at those smothering what they target,
Why haven’t I got?,
Why? Why? Why? Want it now?
A noise he makes means something,
A noise like “ahh” or “ehh”,
Because he put his pinching fingers to his mouth,
It means dinner-time or “derrr” to him.
He didn’t eat as much as he hoped,
It is wiped a quarter onto his face,
In his hair, on his top, on his neck somehow,
On Daddys sleeve.
A jambalaya of interesting stimuli,
Cars, trains, planes, colours, noises, toys, people, lights,
Memories of desires, tastes, feelings and smells,
Too much can causes a brain electrical discharge.
The chapter of fun is ending,
He sees his bus and hears “home?” spoken with both request and instruction,
Bus wheels rumbling, the motion of movement, the background noises; dings and beeps,
The bus moves off with a heave of people.
He is quiet at the second bus stop,
He moves with only a twitch,
He banks his memories and falls asleep,
It’s a tough life being a toddler.
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