You’ve tossed him up in the air as many times as there are cheerios in his red plastic bowl;
And still he lifts those dimpled little toddler hands up to you for more.
Again, again, again (in his little voice).
You toss him, tickle his toes, kiss his belly-
Over, and over, and over
Even when your arms begin to feel like wet noodles,
It’s not enough for him,
Or for you.
Your arms, his giggles, reach the sky again.