Today I’ve washed your tiny ballet shoes
And my mind flew in a thousand scenes
As to why I’m doing all of this for you
And what on Earth this even means?
I’m washing them to see you clean
Of all your hard, exhausting work?
Just flushed your passion in the sink
And watch the sloth begin to lurk?
I clean them for the world to see
How beautiful and proud you stand?
Although you’re tiny my sweet pea
And I still hold your tiny hand?
What is that triggers doubt in me
As at each step, I question all I do?
But your blue eyes are helping me to see:
I’ve got it wrong about who’s teaching who.