The tiny blonde one
goes straight to the toy bin.
His brown-haired brother
has brought a Matchbox car from home
and says, 'Vroom vroom vroom'
as he rolls it across the table.
Then the little one comes to me.
He holds his arm up to my face
to show me the red stamp
on the back of his wrist.
His brother presents an arm too.
His stamp is grey. My cry of delight
is not so loud as I gave the younger.
So then he swirls the other wrist
revealing a coloured sticker, so bright
and sudden that I shout — and now he's glad.