there is a lesson my baby girl
never seem to learn repeating the mistake
betraying her own mischief making me
proclaim: ‘i have eyes at the back too’
she secretly dumps her breakfast
and gives me a hug as if all is well
and she had her full, forgetting i too
have tread that lane in telling my yarn
sooner she will have to learn the art
of concealing fact with a controlled distant
even when urged to traverse that space
before she walks free from her stunts
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