I grew you, do you know that?
I grew you from being smaller than a spec of sand. Your fingers and thumbs were defined within me; your hearts starting beating next to my own. You all first sucked your thumbs safe inside my chocolate filled belly; you were created with a passion and sustained by love.
So why, since I grew your arms, legs, eyes, mouths and ears can I in no way get you to bend them to my will. I did a superb job in ensuing you all arrived intact, (ok BB was missing one hip, but that is all I lost in the birth canal) but it seems I was pretty bloody useless in creating your control system.
I say stop it and your ears cease to function, I say come here and you wander the other way; and no matter how hard I try I cannot stop the constant flow of green emerging from your noses.
I am sure when I made you I put in a voice command unit but I think one of you removed the others wires as sometimes when you sleep I go looking for it with a torch in your ear.
Either that or the wiring has gone faulty and is permanently stuck in defiance mode.
But I made you, all three of you and you are a jumbled mess of loveliness topped with naughty sprinkles and covered with a mischievous sauce.
Would I change you? Grow you different?
I would, I would indeed.
I would change the recipe just a tad and take out your elephant feet, giving you all little mice footsteps instead.
Those elephant feet were a mistake.
But the rest of you, that can stay, I wouldn’t change a thing.