A Poem From Uncle

I try and hold you when Mom doesn’t have ya.



Then when I getcha Dad comes and grabs ya.


Your eye brows are always up,


It’s like your trying to say “whats up?”


Your starting to laugh, your starting to smile.


When you poop Megan says it’s a pile.


But you’re a baby so its ok,


Even though it doesn’t smell like a bouquet


But when you’re grown up and a little lady


You wont wanna do that like you did when you were a baby.