Playing Pretend

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I like the bones of this poem. I think if I come back to it in a year for a good edit, it might polish up nicely.

Pretend
Maxwell Mulligan Morgan McRae
Woke up silly on Saturday.
He curled in his covers and squirmed in his sheets.
He wrapped his fingers around his feets.
He pulled his knees right up to his nose,
Saying, "I'm a ball with wiggly toes!"

Maxwell rolled right out of bed,
Landing - Gack! - upon his head.
He rolled to the right and bumped his shin.
He rolled to the left and bashed his chin.
"Well," he shrugged, "that's how it goes
"When you're a ball with wiggly toes."

Maxwell Mulligan Morgan Ball
Rolled himself into the hall.
"I smell breakfast!" he announced,
And rolling to the stairs he bounced
On one step, two steps, three, five nine,
And croaked quite loudly, "I am fine!"

"Max!" yelled his Mom, "What's all that noise?
"You're loud enough for fifty boys!"
Max said, "I'm not a boy at all!
"I'm a rolly, bouncy ball!
"A ball with a breakfast-tracking nose!
"A hungry ball with wiggly toes!"

Mom frowned and sighed and tapped her toe.
"I don't have food for balls, you know.
"Balls don't get breakfast. They eat air.
"Besides, you can't reach Maxwell's chair."
And though Max bounced with all his might
To reach the chair, his mom was right.

Max the ball felt his shoulders slump.
He rolled outside to the bicycle pump.
It didn't taste so good somehow,
But - "SPIT THAT NOZZLE OUT RIGHT NOW!
"Maxwell Mulligan Morgan McRae,
"Can't you pretend you know how to behave?"

Maxwell stood. "Of course I can."
He went inside and washed his hands.
He sat in silence while he ate,
Said, thanks, and put away his plate.
'Well,' thought Max, 'I guess that's that.
'Next I'll pretend I'm an acrobat!'