A Poem for my Son

No eating play dough!
No eating it in your chair.
And no eating it under there!
It may look like ice cream
But it is not.
And you’re no play-
dough-eating robot.
For the last time, I say!
We’re all done with play dough
If you keep licking it that way.
I love your imagination.
But not your consumption
of germy, dirty play dough.

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