The ice cream van

If you’ve heard the cheerful jingle,
Then you know that they have too,
You both know that it’s coming,
There are two things you can do,
Tell them they can’t have one,
Put your fingers in your ears,
Accept that you’re a monster,
As you wipe away the tears,
Or join the queue of parents,
Who, for peace and quiet’s sake,
Are sacrificing tea time,
For a 99 with flake.

Baby wipes

Don’t ask me what’s in them,
But there’s nothing they can’t do,
They’re meant for wiping bottoms,
But they don’t just work on poo,
Red wine on the carpet?
Spilled your coffee on the chair?
Scrub it with a baby wipe,
You’d never know it’s there,
Food stains after mealtimes,
Dirty smudges on the wall,
Chocolate ice cream dribbles,
Baby wipes will get them all.

Mother’s Day

Hooray, hooray it’s Mother’s Day,
Hooray for me, me, me,
Today’s the day we all pretend,
I’m perfect as can be,
Forget the times my temper’s frayed,
Forget I sometimes shout,
Forget I cook you broccoli,
And introduced the sprout,
Pretend I’m never tired,
Pretend I don’t say no,
When you don’t feel like swimming,
It’s not me that makes you go,
Today we are pretending,
I always get it right,
You never know, it could be true,
One day I really might.

Mummy, I feel sick. . .

Batten down the hatches,
The sickness bug is here,
Everyone on stand by,
Keep the carpet cleaner near,
No non-essential washing,
We need all the space we’ve got,
It’s amazing how much bedding,
You can get through on a cot,
Forget about the bucket,
Children never make it there,
You’ll be hosing down the cushions,
While you’re rinsing out their hair,
You’re sure that you’ve been thorough,
Scrubbed and washed it all away,
But even then that smell,
Will linger on and on for days,
And when at last it’s over,
Carpets cleaned and washing done,
The next one’s looking queasy,
Isn’t carpet cleaning fun?