It’s crazy how those early years
Carry so much.
They are “little humans”
Like us, but little.
Most of them have no bills to pay
Or mouths to feed
Or points to prove.
Little humans don’t respect our boundaries,
Nor care for our politics
And can disarm even the most guarded amongst us.
They are easy to forgive
And hard to stay angry at
Though they do not fail to drive us crazy.
Seeing ourselves in them
Is simultaneously exhilarating and terrifying,
They are more than the sum total of us
They are us
And they are also something completely different.
We raise them until we no longer can
And one day they will no longer be so little
But they will always be ours.
Our little humans.