Grampa's Eyes
by Bob Henke
So my daughter had a baby.
Yes, A grandchild, Yes the first.
It's still just a little baby,
nothing better, nothing worse.
This is really not a big deal
at this point in life, for me.
A baby is a nuisance.
Nothing more or less you see.
I don't think you should condemn me.
I need no lecture, don't berate.
It's just that all this Grandpa stuff
is nothing all that great.
I have had my share of babies
to feed and wash and coddle.
To rock when they were infants,
to hold my finger when they toddle.
I've wiped noses when they were sickly,
did the diaper changing thing.
I agreed to share those duties
when I agreed to wear the ring.
But I have been there and I've done that;
I would not have wanted less.
But when Jennifer has a baby
do I need to be impressed?
Her husband was there by her side
when the birthing time was due.
But Jen is still our baby so
we stayed right with her too.
Then they thought I should get maudlin,
perhaps even shed a tear
about this wrinkled, squeaking,
little baby lying here.
That is not a thing I'm apt to do,
let the father sniff and swell,
I'm just glad that the new family
is all fine and doing well.
But I'm not apt to get emotional.
Let the women coo and kiss.
This is just another baby
who'll leak from every orifice.
Worse yet, they've come to live with us.
We're moral support for a month or two.
I suppose I'll have to listen to it
bawl the whole night through.
They will think that I should watch it
for one reason or another-
while exhausted parents catch a nap
or Jen shops with her mother!
I am going to put my foot down.
I will take a stand, they'll see.
This is just another baby
not an albatross for me!
Oh, I suppose just for a minute
Jen does need to get away.
But I will not pick this baby up,
I'll simply let it lay
and blat if it's a mind to
I will simply let it lie...
...but it's just a little baby
and I can't just let it cry.
I will change just this one diaper
I am still resolute.
This is just another baby...
But I've not seen one this cute.
Perhaps a little rocking.
Perhaps a little rest.
She will probably be much quieter
lying here across my chest.
Looking at Rebecca,
I can see my dear wife's nose,
her father's chin, her mother's cheeks
And again my dear wife's toes.
She is such a special baby,
just as bright as she can be
and no one should call her an "it",
for it's plain she is a she.
And so what if I want to hold her,
someone's supposed to when she cries.
Rebecca's just a little baby.
And she has her Grampa's eyes.
[ back ] |
