Oil-based inks on Masa paper
Edition of 8
I'm a little teapot, short and stout.
These pants only go halfway down her shins and
When she points the shirt rides up over her round tummy
Exposing her belly button.
0-3 months, 3-6, 6-12...
She grows out of each size so fast.
Here is my handle, here is my spout.
Point and grunt. (This time she wants the Russian nesting doll,
Which sits too high on the bookshelf for her to reach.
A blast of dance hall Reggae sounds from the radio and suddenly
She squeals with delight, bends her knees, raises both arms, and
Up and down, up and down, just as "the children on the bus go."
When I get all steamed up hear me shout.
The blender terrifies her even though she can't yet understand what
Spinning metal teeth are doing to her sweet potatoes and green beans.
People have stopped asking "Does she sleep through the night?"
(She does not.)
Tip me over and pour me out.
She used to dive off the bed and couch head first and we would catch her.
Now she rolls onto her tummy and dangles her legs off the edge.
Most of these rolls are clumsy, but every once in a while
One is quite graceful, and I almost expect something more to happen.
Like maybe she'll put her arms out, smile like Marilyn, and say, "Tada!"