String Cheese

I watch his chubby little fingers
carefully separate each precious strand,
his face lighting up as he feeds me
strips of processed mozzarella.
A year ago he told me he hated me.

This morning he told me
I am his best friend,
or at least his best “old” friend,
because I play with Legos
and buy the best snacks.

So here I sit, smiling,
with bits of string cheese
dangling from my lips
as a five-year-old giggles
and points at me.

The proverbial simple things in life
are deceptively complex,
like eating string cheese with my godson
and trying not to cry and laugh at the same time.

Copyright © 2013 by Christopher Chaffin – All rights reserved

Advertisements

About cjchaffin

Wordsmithing is my passion. I eat, sleep, and breathe words and phrases, only to regurgitate them and pray that they are better off than when I first ingested them.
This entry was posted in poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to String Cheese

  1. Love this. The ultimimate love and hate relationship comes from growing toddlers and children doesnt it?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s