Each morning’s got the same routine
Woken up by 5:15
A singing toddler one room over
A mix of Beyonce and Grover
I beg the Gods for sleep to take
Of course I lay there wide awake
I stumble blindly to the shower
Weigh myself, and looking dour
Shave, and shit, and brush my hair
At least, what hair is still up there
Suck in the gut, look in the mirror
Squint my eyes, get a bit nearer
New wrinkles forming, baggy eyes
This getting older I despise
And now it’s Peanut’s turn to dress
I pray it’s not the usual mess
It’s starts out sweet, just to be fair
A little kiss, downhill from there
It’s “no” to clothes, and diaper, too
A naked toddler just won’t do
We struggle to and struggle fro
She grabs her brush and won’t let go
I throw my hands up in defeat
So socks are on her hands, not feet
She spends her day at child care
I’m pretty sure no one will stare
We pile into my SUV
And start the day quite stressfully
I drop her off, she starts to cling
But this is just the usual thing
She fusses, I feel like a jerk
But I’ve got to head off to work
Nine hours chained up to a desk
To serve my boss’s last behest
While Peanut plays and paints by hand
And dunks her head into the sand
And naps, and eats, and has much fun
A toddler’s work is never done.
The cost, however, is such dreck
My boss should just write them a check
The clock chimes 5, I grab my keys
Will she be in a good mood please?
I saunter in, expect a “Hi”
She ignores me like i’m just some guy
I go to grab her pink backpack
She grabs my leg; demands a ‘nack
A snack, she wants, like cheerios
Crackers, peanuts, or ho ho’s
Ice pops, candy, donuts, cheese
Of course I give her none of these
Dinner beckons, I won’t coddle her
But you can’t reason with a toddler
She stomps her feet, she starts to scream
“But daddy, I want some ice cream!”
The tears are flowing now in sheets
They drip along her paint-stained cheeks
I take a breath, I tap my heel
I try to make a vain appeal
Sensing that won’t work one bit
I pick her up and run for it
She kicks and screams and makes a scene
If I ignore her, it’s not mean
I know she’s tired, and I’m an ass
I start the car, and hit the gas
On the road and traffic’s rough
And Peanut starts to huff and puff
Or sing or moan, she’s such a kidder
I turn up “All Things to Consider”
We listen in to Amy Eddings
Do a piece on local weddings
But Peanut’s not that kind of tyke
And NPR she doesn’t like
“Turn it off!” she starts to shriek
This car ride’s looking rather bleak
When we get home, I’m in a hurry
One hour left, so I must scurry
It’s a race I really dread
Dinner, bath, a book, and bed
At school her eating isn’t picky
At home it’s gotten a bit tricky
Veggies, fruit and cheese we’ve tried
It must be beige, or sweet or fried
If we have any hope she’ll dine
So cooking doesn’t take much time
Frozen fish, and tots, some cheese
A glass of milk, it’s been a breeze
Sit at the table, now I’m braced
I place the plate, she takes a taste
Then throws the chicken in the air
Rubbing ketchup in her hair
It mixes with the playground sand
To form a paste that can withstand
All forms of lotion, soap, or gel
Was parenting part of Dante’s hell?
She spills the milk upon the floor
Tossing black beans at the door
No time to worry, fret or glower
For now it’s time to take a shower
I soap her up, remove the grime
She wants to play but there’s no time
Out of the shower, quick quick quick
And then we have the hairbrush shtick
Whereby I try to comb her hair
She hates when I’ve got my hands there
She screams and shouts, “No daddy, please!”
Defeated, I sink to my knees
“Okay, all right, we’re done,” I say
We’ll read a book, let’s end this day
She grabs a book that’s one foot thick
I shake my head, “That book is sick,
And needs to rest. How ‘bout this one?”
It’s something penned by S. Boynton
About a pig, or horse or sheep
But I just hope she’ll fall asleep
I’m bleary eyed and need to rest
My patience is a bit hardpressed
I want to curse, yell “fuck” or “damn”
But that book’s already written, man!
Better stick to my own story
My little tale of parental glory
Her book is done, her teeth are brushed
My reading was a little rushed
I may have skipped a couple lines
That board book was hardly the Times
I lay her gently on the bed
And kiss her lightly on the head
She smiles at me and dozes off
Thank god that I pulled that one off
It’s daddy’s time, it’s finally here
Break out the wine, it’s time to cheer
I’m starving, so I grab some pita
(It’s the only rhyme for margarita)
All is silent, calm and still
I finally have some time to chill
Until she wakes at half past three
Screaming, “Daddy, come get me!”
And our routine, it starts anew
Now does this look like fun to you?
Woken up by 5:15
A singing toddler one room over
A mix of Beyonce and Grover
I beg the Gods for sleep to take
Of course I lay there wide awake
I stumble blindly to the shower
Weigh myself, and looking dour
Shave, and shit, and brush my hair
At least, what hair is still up there
Suck in the gut, look in the mirror
Squint my eyes, get a bit nearer
New wrinkles forming, baggy eyes
This getting older I despise
And now it’s Peanut’s turn to dress
I pray it’s not the usual mess
It’s starts out sweet, just to be fair
A little kiss, downhill from there
It’s “no” to clothes, and diaper, too
A naked toddler just won’t do
We struggle to and struggle fro
She grabs her brush and won’t let go
I throw my hands up in defeat
So socks are on her hands, not feet
She spends her day at child care
I’m pretty sure no one will stare
We pile into my SUV
And start the day quite stressfully
I drop her off, she starts to cling
But this is just the usual thing
She fusses, I feel like a jerk
But I’ve got to head off to work
Nine hours chained up to a desk
To serve my boss’s last behest
While Peanut plays and paints by hand
And dunks her head into the sand
And naps, and eats, and has much fun
A toddler’s work is never done.
The cost, however, is such dreck
My boss should just write them a check
The clock chimes 5, I grab my keys
Will she be in a good mood please?
I saunter in, expect a “Hi”
She ignores me like i’m just some guy
I go to grab her pink backpack
She grabs my leg; demands a ‘nack
A snack, she wants, like cheerios
Crackers, peanuts, or ho ho’s
Ice pops, candy, donuts, cheese
Of course I give her none of these
Dinner beckons, I won’t coddle her
But you can’t reason with a toddler
She stomps her feet, she starts to scream
“But daddy, I want some ice cream!”
The tears are flowing now in sheets
They drip along her paint-stained cheeks
I take a breath, I tap my heel
I try to make a vain appeal
Sensing that won’t work one bit
I pick her up and run for it
She kicks and screams and makes a scene
If I ignore her, it’s not mean
I know she’s tired, and I’m an ass
I start the car, and hit the gas
On the road and traffic’s rough
And Peanut starts to huff and puff
Or sing or moan, she’s such a kidder
I turn up “All Things to Consider”
We listen in to Amy Eddings
Do a piece on local weddings
But Peanut’s not that kind of tyke
And NPR she doesn’t like
“Turn it off!” she starts to shriek
This car ride’s looking rather bleak
When we get home, I’m in a hurry
One hour left, so I must scurry
It’s a race I really dread
Dinner, bath, a book, and bed
At school her eating isn’t picky
At home it’s gotten a bit tricky
Veggies, fruit and cheese we’ve tried
It must be beige, or sweet or fried
If we have any hope she’ll dine
So cooking doesn’t take much time
Frozen fish, and tots, some cheese
A glass of milk, it’s been a breeze
Sit at the table, now I’m braced
I place the plate, she takes a taste
Then throws the chicken in the air
Rubbing ketchup in her hair
It mixes with the playground sand
To form a paste that can withstand
All forms of lotion, soap, or gel
Was parenting part of Dante’s hell?
She spills the milk upon the floor
Tossing black beans at the door
No time to worry, fret or glower
For now it’s time to take a shower
I soap her up, remove the grime
She wants to play but there’s no time
Out of the shower, quick quick quick
And then we have the hairbrush shtick
Whereby I try to comb her hair
She hates when I’ve got my hands there
She screams and shouts, “No daddy, please!”
Defeated, I sink to my knees
“Okay, all right, we’re done,” I say
We’ll read a book, let’s end this day
She grabs a book that’s one foot thick
I shake my head, “That book is sick,
And needs to rest. How ‘bout this one?”
It’s something penned by S. Boynton
About a pig, or horse or sheep
But I just hope she’ll fall asleep
I’m bleary eyed and need to rest
My patience is a bit hardpressed
I want to curse, yell “fuck” or “damn”
But that book’s already written, man!
Better stick to my own story
My little tale of parental glory
Her book is done, her teeth are brushed
My reading was a little rushed
I may have skipped a couple lines
That board book was hardly the Times
I lay her gently on the bed
And kiss her lightly on the head
She smiles at me and dozes off
Thank god that I pulled that one off
It’s daddy’s time, it’s finally here
Break out the wine, it’s time to cheer
I’m starving, so I grab some pita
(It’s the only rhyme for margarita)
All is silent, calm and still
I finally have some time to chill
Until she wakes at half past three
Screaming, “Daddy, come get me!”
And our routine, it starts anew
Now does this look like fun to you?
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