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My grandson started school just the other day; The teacher said to me, "He has a lot to say." I asked if he was trouble, she looked me in the eye, "His anecdotes are brilliant." She said with a sigh. I'm watching television, there's a film with lots of fights, He enthuses every scene with childlike delight. "Granddad why's he hiding in that hollow over there? I'll get him with my laser gun." I give him a withering stare. Unfazed he carries on with intrepid fortitude; Shooting all the baddies and telling them he's good. His brain is lightening fast; so fast that he has got The answer to the storyline before they start the plot. By now I've got quite angry but his enigmatic smile Turns away my malice; that lad's got lots of guile: "Granddad you're terrific, I love those masks you wear, Making funny faces and tearing out your hair." He has a million questions for every single scene, I'd tell him to button up his lip but that would be too mean. So I quietly sit there fuming, waiting for him to stop; There is only one solution! Buy him sweets from the local shop. Copyright 2005 Robert Cartwright-Davidson Vote for this poem
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