I was just about asleep,
When I heard his happy call.
“I’m the worlds greatest batter,
Dad, come watch me hit a ball!”

He tossed the ball into the air
And gave a mighty swing.
He showed a look of surprise,
When he didn’t hit a thing.

Ten times he tossed it in the air.
And ten times it hit the ground.
I could see his frustration
As he stood there on the mound.

Then a smile came on his face.
He was happy after all.
“I’m the world’s greatest pitcher.
Even I can’t hit my ball!”

Little boys are always the world’s greatest something or another. Give one a towel for a cape and he becomes Superman.

Their favorite game when adults are around is “Watch Me”. I once saw a comic strip in which a mother was sitting by the pool while her three children played. For hours on end she listened to them as they shouted, “Watch me Mama, watch me!” When her husband got home, she was zonked out on the couch. His comment was not very understanding, “All you did all day was watch the children swim?”

Maybe I should have titled this poem Watch Me, instead of World’s Greatest.