Small children are a true delight. Frustrating at times, infuriating and confounding and just plain exhausting at others, but always, always a delight.
My son is almost three now, and the thoughts that come spilling and pouring and tumbling from his mouth never cease to amaze me. Sometimes, while playing with his toys, he’ll stop suddenly, turn to look at me, and furrow his brow. Then, with great seriousness, he’ll issue some absolutely delightful statement, and it will take all my willpower not to squeal at the overwhelming cuteness of it all.
I was reminded recently of the wonderful poems of A.A. Milne, who, while perhaps most famous for his stories of Winnie the Pooh (and Tigger, too!), wrote several collections of poetry celebrating childhood. Milne’s child narrators are creative, sweet, imaginative, funny, and often very mischievous, just like a very cheeky little nugget I happen to know and love!
Of course a young child would have a favourite stair, one where they like to sit and think all sorts of funny thoughts. Only a boring old grown up would think it strange to have a favourite stair!
Halfway down the stairs
Is a stair
Where I sit.
There isn’t any
Other stair
Quite like
It.
I’m not at the bottom,
I’m not at the top;
So this is the stair
Where
I always
Stop.
Halfway up the stairs
Isn’t up
And isn’t down.
It isn’t in the nursery,
It isn’t in the town.
And all sorts of funny thoughts
Run round my head.
It isn’t really
Anywhere!
It’s somewhere else
Instead!
Have a lovely, lovely weekend, friends!