Parenting Poems, Vol 3

I don’t know why I ate that
I found it on the floor
Quinoa? Lentil? Maybe rice?
I really can’t be sure.

I don’t know why I ate that
I found it in her hair
A lump of something – maybe prune?
Not sure how it got there.

(That’s not true: with sticky hands
She paints hair, face, and clothes
And decorates with dinner
That she tosses, drops, and throws).

I don’t know why I ate that
I’m not sure what it was
We haven’t eaten beans for days
It looked like that (plus fuzz)

I don’t know why I ate that
This time I have a hunch:
Her mucky hands were on my sleeve
And it resembled lunch.

I used to have good manners
(or civilized, at least)
But these days cleaning after her
Can offer quite a feast.

But I don’t have to eat it
There’s no reason, there’s no rhyme
But sometimes once it’s in my hand
My mouth? It just saves time.

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