You, at three

            You turned 3
            while Ba and I were sleeping.

            You turned 3
            while we were driving,
            and hoovering,
            and buying milk and bread.

            We turned around
            And your jeans were shorter
            Your shoes were tighter
            Your imagination, wilder
            And sentences, longer.

            You are 3 now.
            You tiptoe into my room,
            cover me with your teddy's blanket
            while I sleep.

            You eat half of your favourite treat
            and wrap up the rest.
            It's for Ba, you say,
            when he comes home from work.

            You switch on your light
            at two in the night.
            You tell me you need to read.

            I remind myself
            you are 3
            you are 3.