Tony

This poem was written in 1966 by Kaye Stabbird, and describes the life of a highly gifted four year old. Though some of the references might be outdated, there still are four year olds who are asynchronous children, just like Tony, today.

Tony’s drying dishes and cleaning out the hall,
And all he did was use the phone to make a friendly call.
For Tony’s being punished (which happens more and more),
Because he’s only four years old, and much too smart for four.
He asks so many questions, his parents call it “prattle,”
When Tony asked if he could call his uncle in Seattle.
So Tony’s parents answered, “Sure,” only to check too late,
And find he’d talked from coast to coast for fifty minutes straight.
Which started Tony hollering – he wasn’t fresh or bad,
He’d asked to call Seattle, and they’d let him, and he had.

Tony’s in the corner, and upon the naughty stool, 
And all because he tried to do the work in nursery school.
When Tony, tired of coloring, to vary his routine,
Miss Keith, his teacher, had him make a bowl of plasticine.
But even though he made the vowel Miss Keith looked fierce and smitten,
To note that on the back of it, MADE IN JAPAN was written.
And since it didn’t seem to help when Tony told Miss Keith,
He only wrote what all cheap bowls had written underneath…
Not really liking fierceness much, he took a pencil… WHOOM,
And fired it with a rubber band across the silent room.

Tony’s in the corner, where he’s been sent again,
Because - at four - reads and writes like someone nine or ten.
Upset about the Bowl Affair, Miss Keith - appearing grimmer -
Decided Tony might enjoy a lovely first grade primer.
The trouble was that later on when she was less forbidding,
And asked if Tony liked the book, he answered, “Are you kidding?”
“My dog can run. My ball is fun. My kitten is a pet…
See mother cook. See Baby look,” How boring can you get?
And just to warn some future child the story wasn’t bearable,
He scribbled on the little page, “Don’t read this book. It’s terrible!”
Since Tony, with things this and that was no example-setter,
The teacher said to stay home until he acted better.
Which didn’t bother Tony much, for what could be forlorn,
Than spending half your waking hours restricted to a corner?

So now he’s sweeping sidewalks, and beating scatter rugs,
And though he keeps his min alert, by watching birds and bugs -
He’s sick of being punished (which happens more and more),
Because he’s only four years old, and much too smart for four.
He’s sick of how his mother says in accents sad and moany,
“He’s brilliant, but I don’t know what we’ll ever do with Tony.”


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