The above was written on 01/01/97 about a young child (not my own) with whom I apparently spent too much time...
Kyra at Two
In silence and shyness she greets at the door,
A tender young thing, almost two, but not more.
Her shyness is fleeting, as soon I will see.
"Pick her up!" will come words directed at me.
The shyness now gone, she's very much bolder,
Barking out orders like "Sarge" to the soldier.
"This way," she directs me, pointing ahead,
Handing me books that at once must be read.
"Put her in!" "Get her out!" "Sit down, Mike, sit down!"
Each delay in compliance creating a frown.
Could I argue? Refuse? Well, I could, I suppose...
But what else would I do, and where else would I go?
Where a life that starts this way will lead, I can't say.
Will she learn something useful from games that we play?
What will Kyra decide that her life's all about?
I haven't a clue, but it's fun finding out!