You just know that I think you’re cute
when you run around in your birthday suit.
Deep down I’m sure you’re aware that you’re my last
when you give me that look as you waddle past.
I’m pretty sure you’re well aware
of how I’ll laugh when you put food in your hair.
You can read my mind from way down there
as you run by in your brother’s underwear.
You routinely undo me with your pouty lip
as I cuddle you and carry you on my hip.
You know so much, though you’re so small,
Nothing gets past you. Nothing at all.
copyright Nan @ Life is Like a Lunchbox 2007