We need our children to keep us humble between toast and marmalade;
there is no time for a ticker-tape parade before bed, no award, no bright statuette
to be delivered for mending skinned knees, no wild bursts of approval for shoveling snow.
A kiss is the only approval they show; to leave usβthe first great success they achieve.
I wrote this poem after fixing my son Jeremy some toast and getting a kiss in return. Keywords/Tags: children, success, parents, toast, jam, marmalade, skinned, knees, kiss, approval