The Sweetest of Spots

The almanacs of parenting tell of a time
Where the hard toil of many seasons
Blossoms into a harvest of happiness:

The Sweet Spot

Old enough to not need your
Constant supervision and attention
To be free of diapers and wipes and bags
Able to walk and run and skip and jump without often falling
With a growing playful imagination that can create games on their own

BUT

Young enough
To still want to have you around.
To guard the door of a strange stall or Port-O-Let.
To pick up, bandage and kiss or lend a hand when balance is failing
To pretend to be their scary monster or pirate at the playground

Before the independence you tried to foster for so long
Not only takes hold,
But becomes a barrier between you
As they continue to grow and uproot
On their way to a new garden