I am the ninth born
of fourteen Campbells.
The dividing line for most
between the big kids
and the small.
I, the oldest little
led the gang of ***** boys.
Always antagonizing the elders,
until the war was waged.
My cousins they were towers and
being thrown onto their shoulders
was the equivalent of being
launched into outer space.
They could spin us by our ankles,
they could keep us at bay with one arm
and when all of us would gang on one.
That was a triumphant day.
But the battle wouldn't last long.
The adults were always busy.
So I'd head off with my warriors
and we would plan our next attack.
The entertainment of the day,
getting thrown across a room.

Its funny looking at this now,
I am care taker at a preschool.
I'll pick up a child upside down
only to be flocked by eight screaming
"me next me next!"
and I'll laugh as they outnumber me to the ground.

One minute you are climbing the tower.
The next you are that tower falling down.