The Art of Being Three
I like being me and I like being three
Not two, not four, just me being me
I really like dirt and any dirt will do
Dirt on me dirt on them and even dirt on you
I like Popsicle sticks and Popsicles too
Purple on grapes and blueberries blue.
I eat with my fingers and drum with my spoon
And dream of the cow that jumps over the moon
Why is the way my sentence begins
“Do monkeys eat donuts, do mermaids have fins?'
“Why must I nap? I'm really too old!”
“Why do you say, "Do as you're told."
“Why can't I run out into the street?
Haven’t you noticed I'm wearing two feet?
“Do dragons breathe fire, do skunks really smell?
“If you haven't held one, how can you tell?”
I don't want a bath; I don't want to get out.
I'm just being three; this is what I'm about
I cry and I laugh, I whine and I pout
I paint on the floor and color the grout
I live in a world I can't always reach
So show me the way it’s your job to teach
Answer my questions, hear what I say
Help me to cope with what comes my way
I'll only be three for a little while more
LOOK OUT WORLD I’M TURNING FOUR!