The carrots I asked for were too crunchy to eat,
There was a single, dastardly crumb on my seat.
I did not grant permission for my hair to be brushed,
Nor for the contents of my potty to be flushed.
I think it’s you, not me, who’s the loon,
for not wanting to wear a bobble hat in June.
And of course a tutu is suitable attire
For splashing in puddles and swinging on tyres.
We’re finally at the park, but my face is still grim
There’s a child on my slide, and you won’t remove him!
That girl has an ice cream, you must get me one now
No I won’t be distrac- oh, look a moo cow!
What do you mean it’s now time to go home?
We just got here, I have every right to moan.
But if your suggestion really won’t be parried,
Well then I must insist I am carried.
I don’t care if your arms hurt, I’m quite happy here,
Rubbing my muddy boots on your rear.
We’re home and it’s high time my dinner was made
But I’ll scramble my eggs, and I won’t accept aid.
What? Why would I eat them? No, this sort of spread
Is only acceptable when spread on one’s head.
Oh look, there’s some honey, let’s add that in too,
And some milk and ooh, sugar! Well, what’s wrong with you?
Don’t make such a fuss, it’s just honey, eggs and sugar
See, I’ll pull it out, oh no, oh wait – Aaaaaagh!
Get it off, get it off, get it off, get it off!
Oh God, you’re not moving FAST enough!
What’s this stuff on my plate – green isn’t a food!
No cake till I eat it? Well now that’s just rude.
I don’t remember agreeing to such a decree.
Oh was there ever a life of such misery?
I can’t just be rational – I’m not yet even three,
And there’s so much that doesn’t make sense to me.
Some days I don’t think I’ll ever reach the prize
At the end of all the why, why, why, why, whys.
But one day you’ll look back with a nostalgic smile
When you recall my hair in this great, eggy style.
And the memory of my frowns will make you laugh,
but in the meantime I absolutely will not have a bath.
But if you insist on my undressing, you really can’t blame me
For running away… Oh look! A wee wee!
Yes it has been a while since my last random wetting
But sometimes I just can’t help forgetting.
It’s bedtime, so you must read me ten books, let’s go
And don’t scrimp on any of the words or I’ll know.
Daddy must read to me too now you’re done,
With all the voices and actions I like, every one.
I need water, I want doggy, I’m hungry, I must poo…
What will it take to bring me downstairs with you?
Ok, fine. I’ll stay here… but I want one last kiss,
And we can all agree, I’m not happy about this.
Because it’s really not easy to be quite so small,
No, I wont say night night… I’m not tired… at… a-….
PS – your earrings are in the toilet.
[…] to claw back a bit of pre-baby fitness. The time we called 999 completely unnecessarily. The continued laments of B1 now aged six and three quarters (spoiler: Mummy told her to stop playing Minecraft and go […]