Disarmed

I should be diligent and firm, I know I should, and frowning, too; again you’ve failed to clean your room. Not only that, the evidence of midnight theft is in your bed— cracked peanut shells and m&m’s are crumbled where you rest your head, and just above, the windowsill is crowded with a green giraffe (who’s peering through your telescope), some dominoes, and half a glass of orange juice. You hungry child, how could I be uncharmed by this, your secret world, your happy mess?