two days

hehe... let me tell you a story about baby poo. About a week after we brought home our first, I was "bathing" him on our dining room table (we lived in an apartment, so it was basically the kitchen table). In the middle of the "bath" (a misnomer when in reference to cleaning an infant, isn't it?), my little super pooper exploded from the rear and shot liquid yellow poo 6 feet, no joke! Unfortunately, I was in the way of the spray. Needless to say, I then needed a bath as well. Thank goodness I was wearing my glasses that day.

Now back on topic.

...

The "making dragons" part was most effective for me. It reminded me of a poem by Jayne Jaudon Ferrer :

The Play's the Thing

Forgive me, Lord,
for all the tasks
that went undone today.
But this morning when my child
toddled in and asked, "Mommy play?",
I simply had to say yes.
And between the puzzles and trucks
and blocks and dolls and old hats and
books and giggles,
we shared a thousand special thoughts,
a hundred hopes and dreams and hugs.
And tonight, when prayer time came
and he folded his hands and softly whispered,
"Thank you, God, for Mommy and Daddy and
toys and french fries, but 'specially
for Mommy playing,"
I knew it was a day well wasted.
And I knew you'd understand.

Anyhow, overall, this is something most of us can relate to (How my body aches for sleep as a deadline approaches!), but as a poem, it feels too rough, too much like a journal entry, to be effective yet.