Buckle Stuck

Hey, my name is Charlie Vanfleet
And in our minivan's back seat

Is where I jump in my car seat
But before we drive on the street

Daddy will wrap, strap, click, and snap
Around my shoulders, chest, and lap

He gets me buckled and all stuck
Like a duck in deep muddy muck

I find so little happiness
From this tight childproof harness

Being hyperactive and three,
I have lots of wiggles in me

That is why I whined and complained
When my body was so restrained

Daddy, please give me some more room!
I already lived in the womb

I am squirmy, I like to move
This contraption's cramping my groove

After dad considered advice
About my restraining device

He smiled and gave a hearty laugh
And told a story from his past

"Listen to me now," he chuckled,
"Listen to why you must buckle".

I also was once a young buck
But when I rode in Grandpa's truck

I didn't wear my safety strap
Because I didn't like to feel trapped

Instead Pops would hold out his arm
To keep me from booboos and harm

Whenever he slammed on the breaks
He would use his arm as a brace

But all of his grown-up muscle
Couldn't hold me like a buckle

One time we actually crashed
And I hit my head on the dash

I got a purple and blue welt
All because I had no seat belt

Hospitals filled with boys and girls
With windshield glass caught in their curls

Kids in cars were not protected
From being thrown and projected

Their buckles sorely neglected
This needed to be corrected

Tired of seeing what they saw
People made a new traffic law

Children would be a safer they felt
If they wore a special seat belt

So when I wrap, strap, click, and snap
Around your shoulders, chest, and lap

You may feel all buckle stuck
But listen to me my son, Chuck

It's to obey laws I respect
And to show love that I protect