Let Me Get Out My Phone

Puzzles, playdough, toys galore. Come take your pick as you come through the door. Your stuff is boring; I want a lot more. Not the same-old- same crummy junk again. I want new stuff, by my chinny-chin-chin. What about the puzzles? I ask, with surprise. Studying his face, studying his eyes. You loved them last time. Don’t you remember? We had fun with them way back in September. They are the same, every day, every week. It’s new puzzles I want, it’s new games I seek. What about this, the child said, Let me get my phone out, and I will talk to it instead. What about this, the child did say. I will leave you alone, we will not have to play. What about this? I said to the child. Let’s be pirates, and ninjas, and we will live in the wild. We can growl, and say mean stuff, and it will just be in play. No, said the child. I hear mean stuff at my house every single day.