Pablo Fecasso
Last week I nearly lost my mind!
My kids just fought and yelled and whined!
All three thought every toy unshareable;
The noise they made was quite unbearable.
They pulled my hair.
They kicked.
They hit.
My nerves unraveled bit by bit.
But yesterday had gone all right—
(They’d only had eight minor fights.)
It seemed the major storm had passed
That maybe I’d have peace at last.
I longed to have one day of saneness—
A day of calmness.
Noiseless.
Painless.
But I just had to wait and see
What kind of day tomorrow would be.
So on to bed I went to pray
That dawn would bring a better day.
Alas, the morning came at last,
And sadly all my hopes were dashed.
My two-year-old filled up my purse
With chocolate syrup, and then immersed
Then colored all the walls hot pink.
And—oh!—what’s more, the little stinker
(Thinking he was such a thinker)
Made a homemade fishing pole,
And used as bait his hamster, Lowell,
Then cast him in the toilet bowl!
Of course while this was going on
I didn’t notice little John
Was decorating Jenny’s face
With butter, jam, and mint toothpaste.
Then Jenny thought that she’d be funny
And filled the VCR with honey.
Then after that she found some shears
And cut her hair from ear to ear.
But that was nothing when I saw
That as a great and last hurrah,
My little two-year-old—my Paul—
Had painted pictures on the wall,
But brush and paint he hadn’t used;
Instead his diaper he’d removed,
And with its contents he’d proceeded
Finger painting…unimpeded.
Author - Joy Miller of www.moneysavingmom.com