She wants cereal in the purple bowl and I can only find the green
And I'm tired, can't they see that? He looks perfect, is perfect,
And screams all night long, putting all thoughts of bowls, purple or otherwise, into
The part of my mind that's in free-fall.
When they leave, bump in her hair, shoes smudged, I say, "I love you! Have a great day!"
But kisses don't replace "Hurry UP!" as the song-worm in their brain, and I think,
I will make it up to them, but
Lunch is late,
The baby and the writing and the laundry, because those are important,
And I'm cutting up vegetables in a frenzy instead of hugging when they come home.
(vegetables are important, you know)
And in the park sure, there I am,
And homework, sure,
But I am pulled into four and say "hang on, just hang on," so many times
I might as well record it and press play.
And dinner, and book, and bath, and bed
And all I want to do is finish the load of laundry that I started in the morning,
Move it from clean to dry
(it's important that the clothes smell fresh, you see)
And so many kisses, kiss them to sleep.
"Okay. We'll talk more in the morning," I say. "I love you."
Spins round and starts again.