Growing out of it

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When my son was four months old,

He discovered his toes.

He found these little things

Bouncing before his eyes.

He gazed at them intensely

And frowned in concentration.

He then told his tiny fingers

(Which he'd recently discovered)

To go and grab them hard

For they did look very tasty.

His little fingers obeyed

And brought his toe to him.

Which he, without delay,

Pushed into his mouth.

He liked the way they fit,

The toe and his mouth,

As though the two of them

Were made for each other.

He scowled at the taste-

"Well, that is surprising.

It's like nothing I've eaten-

It's like eating myself!"

He chewed, deep in thought

Like a connoisseur of food.

I tried to pull the toe out

Of his toothless mouth,

But once he had discovered it,

There was no turning back.

He bounced back like a spring,

Went back to his business.

He'll grow out of it soon, said

A wise old woman, who has 

No doubt raised a few many

Toe-eaters herself.

He's not gonna chew his toes 

Forever. He'll grow out of it.

Soon enough, he began to put

The toes to other use 

When he started crawling 

And discovering the world.

He grew out of it, like she said,

Like he grew out of other things.

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