When I was one I had so much fun
But now that I’m four life is such a bore
I used to be able to brush my teeth
I used to be able to put on my pants
I used to be able to Velcro my shoes
But now I turn up my nose at the chance
Turn up my nose? No
I blow my whole stack
knocking o’er baskets and shelving and tack
flailing about like a fish out of water
making you wish you had birthed a sweet daughter
When I was two I knew just what to do
but now that I’m five I’m not sure I’ll survive
At this time last year I could
wipe my own nose
At this time this year I smear
snot on my clothes
I haven’t consumed a full meal in some weeks
My life is a long string of endless snack streaks
You can give me good food
but I’m not in the mood
and I’ll tell you with very loud shrieks
I know I am smart
I can read, do some art
I know I am loved
but I’m coated and gloved
against my own will
so I will not stand still
except in the rain
to wail in disdain
loud sorrowful howling
that drives you insane
Don’t be mad, don’t be sad
I am just a small lad
and this latest bad habit
is just a new fad
there’s nothing so broken that
a hug will not fix
But woe to the grownup
who hugs me when I’m six
