your thoughts a mystery,
then you spit up.
i dab and cluck, a familiar machine
you apparently find amusing.
research supports
space for independent play
at your stage of development,
but where does that leave me
relative to your soft cheesy neck folds,
and my need to burrow my nose in them?
reason is quick, cool, and me, the opposite,
clearly no match. your neck an imperative,
burrow i must.
I’m guessing that you’re referring to Noah, not Sam. 😉
Thank you for greeting me out of my own head and providing a sweet smelling space to abide a minute.