As Junior stirs his Baby-food,
And splashes in his milk,
I think he isn’t understood
By Parents and their ilk,
For he will eat his safety-pins,
And munch upon the rug
Or toys designed for making dins,
Or gulp some deadly drug.
He won’t devour the things he should,
But eats what he can catch–
If we would HIDE his food, he could
Get something down his hatch.
by Ray Romine Friday, September 20, 1946
