Written by: Phyllis Ann Doros
Copyright � 1953
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My Son Jim

You spilled your milk� Then tossed your spoon
Right down across the floor,
Tipped over your dish very soon,
And calmly asked for more.

You chased the dog around the room,
�til mama put her out,
You hunted �till you found the broom,
To break more things� No doubt!

You pushed the chair up to the sink,
And got into the soap.
At times like that I stop and think,
� Can there be any hope?

From the closet you placed a shoe,
Right in the baby�s crib,
In baby talk he said: �Goo Goo�
I didn�t need that rib!�

There stood the cupboard door ajar,
You couldn�t miss it Bub,
The onions didn�t travel far�
They landed in the tub.

You hit your sister in the face,
Tore up another book,
Made such a mess out of the place,
That I�m afraid to look.

Though whenever I glance your way,
You�re busy as a bee,
You always find time in your play,
To have a smile for me.

One more kiss while you sleep in bed,
Another day is done.
Tuck you in and caress your head�
We love you so�.. My son.
Jim -1957

Jim -1955

Jim -1955

Jim -1953


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