Bright, Bright, Bright Sunshiny Day

David Moreau

Toby races through the building

and I’m supposed to keep up.

That’s the way it’s always been.

He gets a two, three minute head start

if I’m helping lift Jean-Paul

or still assigned a lunch table

and if I don’t track him down quickly

and he grabs stuff off someone’s desk,

or marks up the bulletin board

or gets Sophie upset patting her head

then I’m to blame. We do it this way

so other staff don’t have to deal with him.

That’s not fair for you to say my boss would tell me

and I suppose she’d be right. Nowadays,

most everyone treats him perfectly okay

and if they do get upset it’s because

they feel it’s not fair to the others

who do follow the rules, or because

they have more than enough to deal with already.

 

So I use the TPS – the Toby Positioning Sensor –

and ask which way did he go? And walk quickly

down the hall through the cafeteria and into FLS or PLS,

back through the kitchen and towards the conference rooms

and when I find him I smile and say, when you’re ready…

we can brush your teeth. Usually I get him to do

three out the four things by the end of the day.

 

Last week Toby heard “I Can See Clearly Now”

on the boom box in Practical Life Skills

and shook his finger and rocked his body

and sang gonna be a bright, bright, bright

sunshiny day… in his own way.

 

Later he disappears and I find him again

in front of the boom box, doing

bright, bright, bright sunshiny day

and the staff person in the room says, he asked me to put it on,

which cheers me up immensely because

usually people don’t understand what he’s saying

and just go along with him singing “This Old Man”

over and over again. But he can do more than that.

I know.