untitled
My first day at work
we were on the playground.
Julie came up to me.
“Ms. Madison can I tell you something?”
I nodded.
“That tree looks so happy.”
“What part is the happiest?”
“The way she holds herself.”
I laughed, agreed.
She ran off to swing on the monkey bars.
I stood a little taller.
“Mrs Madison can i tell you something.”
I nodded.
“Yes Julie.”
“I have something.”
I furrowed my brow.
“An accident.. I have one.. in my pants.”
I asked if she had extra clothes to go change.
“Yes but I want to play a little longer.”
I watch her chase all the kids
on the playground with her accident.. in her pants.
I laughed, a little to hard.
It all felt so foreign and still too relatable.
Running around chasing others as if we aren’t all pretending we haven’t made mistakes.
We lined up.
She changed.
Pee pants Julie comes
from the bathroom
with her arm outstretched.
A gift for me…
her peed covered Dora underwear.
I told her to hold them.
The other kids laughed.
She waved them like a flag
Surrendering to this all too human existence
that is more accident than not.
And only sometimes in your pants.
5 thoughts on "untitled"
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
“Pee pants Julie”, my HERO! Great poem, Madison?
Too funny! A great story!
Oh to be a child again! Great great great work.
Love the tree “holds herself” as a model for the child to continue playing and holding herself- except she can’t. Playing trumps potty in my house sometimes, too!
^—- that comment, ditto.
I’d heard play despite the rain but, man, despite the “mistakes” is so much more poignant and apt, isn’t it!