He will be a mess
playing with his food
pretending it’s a volcano of peas and carrots
He will thrust himself to the floor
because not getting a toy
really IS the end of the world
in his eyes.
He will say no
and mean it
despite your inability
to realize he has
He will yank off his clothes
and profess his undying love
He will ask for the coolest
most expensive clothes/shoes/technology/toys/fill in the blank here
and hate me
when I say no.
He will laugh at inappropriate times
and touch EVERYTHING in sight
because his palms have eyeballs
that only he can see.
He will be the ruler of a far off kingdom no one knows about
the slayer of dragons and a makeup artist
trying on my makeup and shoes without any thought
of orientation and those labels of gender the world
is obsessed with.
He will have an imaginary friend
that knows all of his secrets
his hopes and dreams
that which I will struggle to keep up with
through the years.
He will wiggle and jiggle and roll and tumble
climb and crawl and run and dance
and sing when silence and stillness is in order.
He will color on the walls
and call it art
break the most expensive thing in the house
and blame the dog
we dont have.
He will fib
because he’s scared of diappointment
make up stories
and call it truth.
He will stay up way too late
wake up way too early
take up way too much of the bed
and piss it twenty minutes before the alarm is supposed to go off.
He is accident prone
and all sorts of exhausting.
He is lovable
He is the magnificence of childhood.