Are you okay? he asked.

I fessed up-

I haven't been well,

Since, well, I drank from sippy cups.

 

He looked angry,

Then like someone kicked a puppy.

Honestly, I didn't need to see it-

It was how I felt.

 

He questioned me, 

more in a sense of wonderment,

than any sort of blame.

My shame lay dormant

for a moment

while he just looked so concerned.

 

He let me in to hide,

and out when I asked.

Honestly, of all the people here,

he seems the most up to the task

of keeping me 

alive,

awake,

alert,

enthusiastic.

 

And maybe I don't need help,

but gracious reception

is a gift in itself.

 

Thank you.