Tickles

By Dwain Preston

I know I’m in a pickle

When Daddy starts to tickle,

And I wish I had a nickel

For every time he does!

His arm looks like a glider

As his fingers open wider;

Then he says he is a spider,

And I often wish he was!

For spiders only squiggle,

Maybe jump, and maybe jiggle,

But they never make me giggle

As they brush across my toes!

Oh, I’m really not so fickle;

And I’m not in such a pickle,

‘Cause I do like Daddy’s tickle,

And now—oh, oh!—here he goes!

Illustrated by Shauna Mooney