Sugar on the floor

Ickity stickity sugar on the floor
It dissolves in part on my socks.

Sticky socks throughout the house.
They follow me in my frenzied cleaning burst.
Behind the vacuum cleaner little pieces of sugar
Stick and shift,
Signatures of disarray
Throughout the house.

My son spilt the sugar.
He filled up the sugar jar while I ladled porridge.
His idea of housework perhaps.

Tiny pieces of my children attach to me
I leave smudges of them throughout the rest of my life.

I can't see the madonna's feet in any famous paintings.
That baby must have stuck to her too.
Left his signature.