Despite the fact my son can do multiplications…he can’t tie his shoe.
Despite the fact he knows monsters aren’t real,
Isn’t scared of the dark,
And can rip a worm in half on a fishing trip …he can’t tie his shoe.
We went cross-country skiing this past weekend,
From the seat of my ass,
Deeply implanted in the snow,
He stood there coaching me to “use your polls to go!!,”
But he can’t tie his shoe.
He’ll steal sushi from your plate if you’re dozing for a second or two,
But he can’t tie his shoe.
He can wipe his own ass….but he can’t tie his shoe.
He’ll tell a complete stranger Happy Birthday,
Climb a tree faster than me,
Be on my front wheel on a 15-mile bike ride,
Throw himself in a pool whether he’ll swim or come in with the tide,
But he still….can’t tie his shoe.
He calls his sister his “enemy,”
Until I see him lying next to her laughing.
He’ll put tacks on the floor,
Won’t bother to hold a door,
And tell me “you’re mean!” when I punish him.
Yesterday he held his foot out with his regular pitiful look,
His knot-tying plea,
I said, “you’re seven, why don’t you tie your own shoe!”
He said,
“Cause everyone always does it for me.”
My son can tie his own shoe.