Little Pals

 

Three nights a week

my office hosts several

tiny people.

Preschoolers.

 

They visit me

in the front office

while their older siblings

participate in their

gymnastic classes

and competitive team practices.

 

They are

the little gifts

God sends me

because my granddaughter

lives so far away.

 

Tristan and Chelsea

were my little guests tonight.

They are both hovering right around

three years old.

Tiny teeth.

Mom still makes sure

to ask if they need to go potty.

And since our business

is a gym

they're pretty much always

in stocking feet.

 

Little

itsy biddy widdy

tiny stocking feet

so cute

you wanna cry.

 

Tristan brought his

bright red

Lightning McQueen

backpack tonight

smushed full of

toy cars and one big,

plastic dump truck.

He claimed my

plastic desk dinosaur mascot

as their playmate too.

And some yellow

critter thing.

I don't know what it is.

But the legs are bendy

and the kids have fun with it.

 

This was my opportunity

to whip out my

scissors and

join in their fun

on the floor.

 

So I built them a drive-up garage

for the vehicles

and a nearby house.

Chelsea thought

all those little toy cars

needed a gas pump.

So we built one of those too.

Complete with

removable nozzle

on the end of a

dental floss hose.

 

We are nothing

if we are not

the MacGuyver

of paper

neighborhoods.

 

Thank you

Dreamsicle wall

for providing a

sun-settee

sort of background

for the buildings.

 

 

Dinosaur in neighborhood.

Yellow animal-thing....beware.

 

Tristan

whose sweet little face

shall remain anonymous

fuels up

the hotrod.

 

"Das my DADS car!!!!!"

he tells me.
And a fine car it is
my very short man
in tiny Transformers stocking feets.

The next night
more little friends stopped in
and we fancied the place up a bit.

Apples in the trees.

And some snazzier wheels, too.

 

Thanks to my little pals

and their bright

imaginations

for making my evening

so sweet.