Goldfish crackers, yum
Boss crunches on those cheese thangs
no time to smile back
The charm here is how a snack-time snapshot turns into a tiny character study. That opening line is pure delight, almost a toddler's exclamation, all crunch and cheerful appetite. Then the second line slides into something quieter and more observational, watching rather than tasting, and "cheese thangs" earns its keep by sounding overheard, like real kid-speak slipping into the poem.
The turn lands in that last line. Suddenly it's not about the crackers at all, it's about attention, about being too busy, too absorbed, too small-mouthed-and-focused to look up. There's no scolding in it, just fact, and that restraint is what makes it funny and a little tender at once.
What the compression buys is contrast without commentary: joy and distraction sitting side by side, no explanation needed. Reread it and the missing smile lingers longer than the crackers did.
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