By Jeremiah K Durick
I remember his helpful phase,
they all must go through it.
Little more than a toddler he
wanted to do the work we did –
dishes, vacuuming, raking and
anything else we were doing.
I remember being patient, knew
it wouldn’t last, he’d grow out
of it with surprising speed, like
growing out of his clothes and
of course he did. But now things
have changed. He’s out there
pressure washing the house. He
seems impatient trying to get me
to follow his instructions, our roles
reversed now. I’ll never outgrow
this, he has work to do and I’m
now the toddler in the way trying
to be helpful. He’s going to paint
the shutters, takes them down
twice as fast as I ever could. I feel
like the bewildered child as my son
assumes his new place in the family.
I remember him as a child always
meaning to help but usually in the way
like I am today
J. K. Durick is a retired writing teacher and online writing tutor. His recent poems have appeared in Third Wednesday, Literary Yard, Black Coffee Review, Kitchen Sink, Synchronized Chaos, Madswirl, Journal of Expressive Writing, and Highland Park Poetry.