Cry Baby
It all came back with the birth
of my boy
while zipping him into
his snuggly soft cotton one…
the feel of a sleeper
my own,
pilled polyester
unbreathable
legs kicking
toes pressing
into the footies
crying out loud in ’68
Dad called me Razehell.
Today a librarian,
still emotional,
called an old ass
cry baby
I prefer quinquagenarian,
just to be clear.
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Hilarious memory for anyone in their 50s…or Beyond.