They can drown their children
in tubs of iridescent, pink bubbles
and force their tan bodies
into dresses of lime green.

They can weave wisteria vines
into their girls’ intricate braids
in hope of brightening
the frizzy strands of brunette hair.

They can shove fluorescent, light-up sneakers
on their sons’ callus covered feet
to gloss over  the reality
of their childrens’ youth swiftly spiraling away.

They can say that their children are naive,
sometimes even reckless,
and have much to learn
before they can enjoy the world
for what it truly is,

but the adults have just as much to grasp,
as they are yet to see that their children
already stand equally beside them,
ready to seize the day.