There’s Always One (2016)

Three kids.

But there’s always one.

One who pushes my buttons.

One who shrieks at a pitch that sends me over the edge.

One that wants “up on you lap”.

One that refuses to talk.

One that refuses to stop talking.

One that won’t wash their hands,

One that’s germophobic

Yes, three kids.

But there’s always one.

One who’s having a tantrum.

One whose socks aren’t comfy.

One who can’t help but stick his fingers into the icing on the cake.

One who refuses to wear a coat.

One who takes off their shoes at bedtime and has made them vanish overnight.

One who won’t go to sleep without a parent touching her.

There’s always one acting up.

But there are three, and recently I’ve realised that they seem to take it in turns to be the one that’s causing the bother.

The child who eats all vegetables refuses a dinner that the other two love.

The child who has a big tantrum sleeps the night through.

Three kids, but there’s always one. One there to hug. One to chat to. One to make me laugh.

And always three to love.

*(I wrote this two years ago but never published it, I’m not sure why, looking back now it feels lovely and nostalgic)

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