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The Child…

21 Mar
The Child…

I rest comfortably in my father’s hands knowing that I would never be dropped. I’ve had my breakfast, don’t give a hoot about how my father gets me to my bed where I can resume my beauty sleep…from wherever it was interrupted! There are a lot of activities going on around me… I see them all…the hustle for spaces in already packed vehicles, the cries of anguish of others, the joys and celebration of some, people dancing, people happy, people sad, people hungry. Hey!!! That looks funny! I see someone trying hard to get his bicycle on a raft and falls right into the water! But what do I care? I sit tight in his hands, head buried in his shoulder knowing he wouldn’t let the water touch me…not to think of me being in that position. So once again I laugh. I look just like my Dad, everybody says that while pulling my puffy cheeks…and though I ain’t got as many teeth as he’s got, I eat anything he thinks is okay for me to, at the right temperature and sanitary conditions. I sleep when I want to. I’m always at the peak of his thoughts. I’m his child. He loves me. I’ve heard him tell everyone that comes around how happy he is when I’m around him. He tells me when I wake up every morning he’d be there for me whenever I cry out. With him, I’m safe. I know none of those big bad cartoon monsters I see on TV can come a mile near me. My Dad’s got musclI rest comfortably in my father’s hands knowing that I would never be dropped. I’ve had my breakfast, don’t give a hoot about how my father gets me to my bed where I can resume my beauty sleep…from wherever it was interrupted! There are a lot of activities going on around me… I see them all…the hustle for spaces in already packed vehicles, the cries of anguish of others, the joys and celebration of some, people dancing, people happy, people sad, people hungry. Hey!!! That looks funny! I see someone trying hard to get his bicycle on a raft and falls right into the water! But what do I care? I sit tight in his hands, head buried in his shoulder knowing he wouldn’t let the water touch me…not to think of me being in that position. So once again I laugh. I look just like my Dad, everybody says that while pulling my puffy cheeks…and though I ain’t got as many teeth as he’s got, I eat anything he thinks is okay for me to, at the right temperature and sanitary conditions. I sleep when I want to. I’m always at the peak of his thoughts. I’m his child. He loves me. I’ve heard him tell everyone that comes around how happy he is when I’m around him. He tells me when I wake up every morning he’d be there for me whenever I cry out. With him, I’m safe. I know none of those big bad cartoon monsters I see on TV can come a mile near me. My Dad’s got muscles…really really big ones! I love the looks on their faces when they hide in corners and take jealous peeps at my rosy cheeks! I sure feel glad I’m with Him… Feeding…No worries! Sleeping…Not the top of my concerns now. What to wear…He’d figure it out. How I look…That’s his business too. What I should do next…He approves my like-list. He says he knows all my needs (which is really true of course!) and would let me have them whenever he thinks it’d be safe for me. All I need to do for him is just to stay around him and make him happy and proud of me. That shouldn’t be so hard to do considering all he does for me. But for reasons I don’t know, I keep on losing sleep over ALL the things he says (and I know) he’d do for me. I know he can, I say I trust him, knowing he’d not let me fall no matter how much he stumbles and staggers with me. The big question here is why do I keep on bothering bout what goes on around me??

 
 

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