Mistopher Christopher SunshineLives at home with us ----
He keeps things at a lively pace
(sometimes it’s scandalous)
Before we wake – he’s up at work
And into everything –
Brown shoes turn black;
The cookies gone –
Then he begins to sing.
His busy little hands begin
Their work at prep of dawn –
A trail of mischief thru the house
He leaves, then travels on.
Now into cupboards, shelves and drawers –Mothers Bobbie pins –
And Daddy’s tools a – a must!
The play room floor laid thick
And white with talcum powder dust.
Written by Orvilla in the 1950's when Chris was young.
This is one of my favorite of Grandma's poems. I'm not exactly sure why. I think I can see my Dad through it even though I obviously never knew him when he was a child. Also I love the nickname "Mistopher Christopher". I love how the poem is uncontrived and seems to have it's own existence.
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