The child just won’t come in
The lights are starting to grow dim
My patience is beginning to grow thin
And without dinner my child will grow slim
I’ve made a big mess
While my child runs wild
We need to say grace and be blessed
Oh when will my little one be mild
Mother doesn’t know a thing
I’ll never grow tired
Her brain needs to be rewired
So no more fussing over towels that need a wring
I hope she stops thinking about clean
I like to be soaked in mud
While she stays a dud
And then she starts to get mean
I will choke
When she gives me a scrub
After all the grub
As a part of my daily soak
