Sticky hands and grape juice smiles
When my daughter and son
Were but babies of 6 months old
I remember a highchair with a shiny metal tray
Bite size Food spread out before them
Little hands reaching, raking into their palm
Smashing against their mouth
Half got in, half stayed on their face
Food was a tactile experience
New tastes, new textures
The stickier, the better
They played with their food
And learned through taste and touch
What was hard or soft, smooth or rough
Then when they were one, the lid came off the sippy cup
And they learned to tip and drink
That adorable stain on the upper lip
Before they could control the flow
Many a spill covered them and the floor
But what did it matter
They were learning, they were growing
And as I sat there across from them
Talking to them, encouraging them, loving them
And yes, helping them play with their food
Babbling back and forth
We were the only two people in the world
Learning about each other
After gently cleaning those sticky little fingers, counting piggy’s
Wiping that precious little mouth, with the hint of a stain still lingering
We would sit and play with a toy, just enjoying their babyhood
The days of sticky hands and grape juice smiles
Are gone these 50 years
But I can still see them sitting in that high chair
And looking back, those were the most wonderful experiences of my life
I look at photos of the milestones they have achieved
And take pride in the incredible people they grew up to be
But photos of those sticky hands and grape juice smiles
Will always be the dearest to me