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.