Stripey socks, little pants and a T-shirt
Are scattered about in the hall
My joints creak in time with the floorboards
As I bend down to gather them all
The bathroom resembles a war zone
Little boats ceremoniously sunk
By huge plastic lemonade bottles
From which lots of bath water’s been drunk
I empty the bath of its clutter
And whizz round the tide mark with Vim
I notice the toilet seat’s up again
There are dribbles all over the rim
I gingerly walk down the staircase
Avoiding the lego and bricks
The handrail is sticky with chocolate
I hazard a guess at a Twix
The kitchen looks nothing like Delia’s
Grubby handprints are smeared on the door
Something sloppy has stuck to my slippers
And I’m spreading it all round the floor
After scrubbing and sweeping and mopping
I look to see what’s on TV
But Hubby comes home at that moment
He’s hopeful I’ve made him some tea
As he peers in the fridge and the oven
I tell him I’ve had a bad day
Then guiltily hold up a menu
‘Indian or Chinese Takeaway?’
We relax as we nibble a bhaji
And crunch on a spiced poppadom
But just as the balti is beckoning
An ear-splitting noise is heard…..MUUUUUUMMMMM.
Love it… iambic trimeter, my favourite
@dotterel – ooh is it? Yes, I knew it was that…honest!
I remember those days only too well. Possibly because it was literally only yesterday…!
Love it, that's just what we are going through at the minute, minus the takeaways… xx
Hilarious! And familiar. We've just given Sonny his own bathroom – down in the basement – and I thought it would really make a difference to the state of the other one. But no. There's still dribbles, wet towels and wet footprints. Hmmmm.
I wanted to reply in a limerick but I'm struggling with what rhymes with Lincoln.
@Steve and @Very bored – now I can't get in the bathroom and when I do, the smell of Lynx is overpowering.
@Deer Baby – Lincoln? Oh I see, I'm the old woman of Lincoln..shire. My town is Spalding and that's tough too as only 'balding' fits!
Makes me miss those long gone days….such lovely words and such lovely memories
Ahhhh. HAD to come and see you after your lovely comment… and how glad I did. Poem is a triumph of not just iambic doo dah, but also of Motherhood. Brings back lots of memories, although it isnt that long ago since I was doing just that… now off to see other posts of yours… could be some time. x
I feel as though I am still stuck in this groundhog day, I have lego imprints on the soles of my feet. Oh get Tim, you can take the teacher out of the classroom etc…………..
@Libby – thank you. Seems like yesterday and yet a long time ago too!!
@Labybird WM – Welcome, welcome! Pull up a chair and I'll stick the kettle on.
@The Mad House – Iambic trimeter the man says. Sheesh, and I thought it was just da-da-da-dee-dum-dum dee-da-da.
You have hidden talents – move over Pam!
@Kate – she fills theatres, that woman. I can fill a kettle?
funny post – could have been written about my house/life/kids!
Bloomin' genius!
@KidsTravel" – can't believe I wrote it about 11 years ago; things obviously don't change with little ones?
@Madame SG – now you're being silly!
Now Rory is grown and at fourteen
He can laugh at the things that he did
Bet you no longer have sticky handprints
But you still have the wee on the lid!
Sally x
@Sally – BRAVO!
So pleased you joined in. And yes, you're quite right. Men, eh?
As my mother's maiden name was Lincoln I know the rhyme is Stinkin'
Great ditty!
@diney – stinkin! Of course. Did you often write limericks about your mother?