You ask me do I want to know the names
of all your stuffies
and we both know
the answer has to be “yes”
so you just begin
even though most of them are obvious
like “bunny” and “bear”
and “bear’s son”
which seems even worse
than “bear junior”
but I don’t say anything
because I want this moment
of duty to be over quickly
so I nod and make noises
that don’t require me
to open my mouth
which is when I almost miss
the part where you tell me
that “giraffe” and “medium bear”
got divorced
and my face must have looked distressed
because you spoke quickly,
comfortingly,
“don’t worry, mama,
they’re still good friends
and they have joint custody
over turtle”
which is when I remembered
why the right answer
to an invitation
to listen
is always
“yes.”