Pitter pat, pitter pat,
little feet in the hallway,
dragging the little green blanket behind them.
The one with the embroidered teddy bear
that he got for his last birthday.
He peeks from around the corner,
thinking I don't see him.
As if I didn't hear him
get out of bed in the first place.
Another flash of blonde hair
and a single chocolate brown eye.
I smile to myself
and prepare for the game to come.
He thinks he's so sly, so slick.
Naive two year old logic,
and still so cute.
Giggles coming from the corner.
Pitter pat, pitter pat,
little feet from the hallway.
I turn and scoop the boy up,
the one running at my legs.
My little boy.
Screams of laughter from
that tiny, toothy smile.
Flip him over and hold him tight.
Raspberries on his bare stomach
make him kick and squirm
and laugh and shriek, louder and louder.
And I laugh, too.
Because it's funny for me to realize that
I can hold my world in my arms
again.
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