Four poems in the style of William Carlos Williams’ “This Is Just To Say” (written to my two-year-old, from whom I am always begging forgiveness for some imagined insult).
This is just to say
I have thrown the banana you left on the footstool and from which you had only taken one small bite Forgive me it was disgusting so brown and so slippery
This is just to say
I have searched everywhere for the stuffed dragon named "Bunny" I see his absence has caused you much distress Forgive me but you have literally 49 other stuffies to cuddle
This is just to say
I have seen you sitting behind the coffee table with your eyes closed in plain view of God and everyone Forgive me I did not know you were supposed to be hiding
This is just to say
I fed the dog before you woke You were probably hoping to scoop her kibble like always Forgive me it was delightful to complete this task alone so quick, so efficient
*************
Image credit: Jacob van Hulsdonck – Nectarines and plums in a Wan Li dish courtesy of Wikimedia.
The one about your toddler hiding reminds me of s my son who used to bend over and cover his eyes when he was “hiding”. Thanks for the memory. I’d forgotten.
Beautiful and poignant. Its hard to be two years!
These brought me a lot of joy, I laughed out loud as I read them. Thanks.
I love these. Such a great and accurate glimpse into the life of the mother of a two year old!
haha, awesome! I feel you!
I carefully listened to your gibberish
and thought you said “red popsicle”
But now that you’re pointing outside,
clearly, you meant “wet bicycle”
forgive me,
for not being fluent in your tongue
where half the words sound alike
chuckled aloud, lovely memory inducing words
Wonderful poems. There should be a whole illustrated books of these!
Yes. Chuckling here too. Thank you.
Reminds me of when my four year old niece approached the Christmas tree, newly decorated with many fragile ornaments. Having been told not to touch the ornaments, she was careful to “hide” the fact that she was taking one off the tree. Facing the tree, she got oh so close, head bowed, her back to her mother and me. After removing an ornament an from the tree, she placed it behind her back where we could clearly see it, turned and walked away. Too, too funny.
I sent these to my 32 year old son who used to insist on being the first to enter the house, and had to be held up so he could be the one to turn on the lights. He said those were sweet memories. His brother, now 30, could not go to sleep without clutching a very small Thomas the Tank Engine. So I bought more than one to avoid catastrophe. I still have one in one of my drawers.