a poem a day for a year #88

I am letting my baby build a Lego boat in a sea of organic quinoa today
I should teach him good table manners I know
but there is a certain kind of charm in the mess
he is happier than the birds outside
happier than the mailman
or me
or the music playing softly behind us
he is in delight
naked highchair tavern hullabaloo
covered in muck
his tiny fist in the air covered in grains
covered in cheese
he releases his hand and my floor is a food fight
open mouthed squeal
I am his best thing
I am everything he needs
this moment
he laughs and says mama
and I run for my camera
for my mental baby book
I will remember this day
make a mess baby
dump it on your little head
throw it at me
it's the real world out there
they will make you behave one day