Sleep is his Achilles’ Heel. Catch him when he’s tired enough and promises break. Keep an eye on the child. Play after work and smile. Keep every promise and never let anyone down. Super-Dad, except when Achilles starts snoring again.
Incy Wincy’s climbing the water-spout. Dad runs his eight-legged spider hands with fingers that tickle his son. Crossed thumbs are eyes. Cross-eyed spider in the bath-tub. Spider on the wall.
“Read,” says the child so he picks up a book, turns a page and tries to speak.
“Incy wincy retreated and bumped his head.”
“Dad! That’s not what it said.”