To My Mother

When I was small
you used to let me dunk cookies
in your coffee
I didn’t want the soggy brown crumbs floating in my milk
I would make a face - tongue stuck out
and plead with my big brown eyes
You’d smile and push your hot drink my way

When I was small
I used to complain when the tags on my shirts
were too itchy
and you’d snip them off
leaving the size and washing instructions a mystery
But it was not something I thought about
I was just glad that I no longer had to scratch

Now I am a mom
and when my son complains that his tags are too itchy
I dutifully cut them off, shaking my head
and smoothing down his collar
But when he holds his cookie in the steam of
my hot delicious tea
clear brown sweetness
untouched in its perfect liquid state
I frown
There are some things
a mom must keep
Sacred.