A client’s mom shared this poem with me recently. It was written about 45 years ago by her mom about her brother.
Ten-Year-Old
…Does everything by fits and starts,
Runs the gamut of manly arts,
Works five minutes on model planes,
Makes dirty marks on the window panes,
Concentrates on spinning a top,
Teases his sisters ’til told to stop,
Tries to think of something to do,
Idly thumbs through a book or two,
The trouble with this man of parts,
He has more fits than finished starts.
–Marguerite Whitley May