Our First Flight Without Dada

All my bags are packed I'm ready to go,
I'm standin' here outside the door,
Oh, Dada, Mama's scared to say goodbye.
Cause she's toting a boy, oft forlorn,
(Though mostly calm when a newborn)
Of stress and chaos she will surely die.

So kiss her and smile for me,
Tell her to hang in and see,
If I'll behave when off we go.
Cause we're leavin' on a jet plane,
And soon we'll both be back again,
Unless Mama makes me fly solo.

A surprise grab bag of toys she's found,
So many things to keep me bound
To my seat so I don't cause a big scene.
Every snack she has, she'll give to me,
Countless minutes watching DVDs,
The boss of her for ages I have been.

So kiss her and smile for me,
Tell her to hang in and see,
If I'll behave when off we go.
Cause we're leavin' on a jet plane,
And soon we'll both be back again,
Unless Mama makes me fly solo.
Cause if I scream she'll go bozo,
Best not to tantrum, I'll lay low,
I'll be her ally, not her foe,
When off to DC we do go.

His Father is an Artist

His father paints with light, apertures and shutter speeds.
Ethan paints with brushes, strokes and colors.

His father mixes talent and hard work to make his masterpieces.
Ethan mixes glue and sparkles and paper scraps to make his.

His father examines his surroundings, searching for beauty.
Ethan examines a beautiful girl as he paints his face.

His father looks at the world, and makes it more spectacular.
Ethan looks at his Pa-Pa, and makes him more handsome.

His father is an artist. And Ethan is, too.