On afternoons, when baby boy has had a splendid nap, <br />And sits, like any monarch on his throne, in nurse's lap, <br />In some such wise my handkerchief I hold before my face, <br />And cautiously and quietly I move about the place; <br />Then, with a cry, I suddenly expose my face to view, <br />And you should hear him laugh and crow when I say "Booh"! <br /> <br />Sometimes the rascal tries to make believe that he is scared, <br />And really, when I first began, he stared, and stared, and stared; <br />And then his under lip came out and farther out it came, <br />Till mamma and the nurse agreed it was a "cruel shame" - <br />But now what does that same wee, toddling, lisping baby do <br />But laugh and kick his little heels when I say "Booh!" <br /> <br />He laughs and kicks his little heels in rapturous glee, and then <br />In shrill, despotic treble bids me "do it all aden!" <br />And I - of course I do it; for, as his progenitor, <br />It is such pretty, pleasant play as this that I am for! <br />And it is, oh, such fun I and sure that we shall rue <br />The time when we are both too old to play the game "Booh!"<br /><br />Eugene Field<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/booh/
