"Meals."
"Mother Wendy lays down the rules.
Rule number one: There will be no hitting back.
But poor Tootles!
He's too big and fat, and his elbows,
even when eating make-believe, push against the other boys
and smack.
Rule number two-- should you have
something to speak out against, politely raise your arm
and declare that you complain of so-and-so.
Is your mug empty slightly, darling?
Not quite empty, mummy.
I complain of Tootles, who has with his hand
knocked over my milk mug.
I will require more milk, mummy, and Father,
who is not sitting at the head of the table
nor at the foot of the table nor anywhere else--
and Father, who is not sitting with a tray
somewhere else alone-- and Father, who has not come home
for several days now.
The girl Wendy is left to mother alone.
And where has father gone to, gone to, mummy?
Can you your brood feed?
Tootles says that he would like to be father.
And if he can't be father, well, then, he
should like to pretend at being baby.
I don't suppose, Michael, you would let me be baby?
Michael, make room, make room.
Something anon is coming with smaller feet than you."