You can remember it all son, so crystal clear.
That day three year’s ago when we went to the pier.
Or the time when you fell over, as we walked round the pond.
You don’t like that walk anymore but of the ducks you’re still fond.
Or how about the birthday party, when you were one?
You remember it all, the music, the games and the fun.
Even watching daddy play his games, when you were months old.
For me the memory has faded, for you it’s still bold.
You tell me daily, of gems from our past.
Though I may forget them, you make them last.
So why is it, I ask myself, on a daily basis.
That you remember so many things, with nary a detail amiss.
Yet when we set off to school, you look oh-so neat.
But 9 times out of ten, your shoes are on the wrong feet!