113.

Our littlest one, she throws such fits;
it's a wonder to behold.
With reddened face, she wails so long,
her temper ne'er grows old.

Those scrunched-up eyes, no tears they shed
while she's writhing on the floor.
And when you think she's slowing down
she's gearing up for more.

And then she'll peek through squinted lids
to see if we're still there.
And throws herself right to the ground,
if we don't show we care.

The straightest face we have to keep
while watching Polly's tricks.
A drama queen, we've come to learn,
is living in our midst!

112.

Phoebe likes dog food,

of this I'm quite sure.

Thank goodness it's Iams,

the quality's pure.

Fistfuls of brown chunks

she's trying to eat.

With crumbs on her face,

she thinks it's a treat.

Baby food companies

need soon be aware:

that babies can't tell

between dog's and their fare!