Dinosaurs in the breadbin,
Fish fingers in the loo -
If you had to live in our house,
You'd be crazy too!
There'd be chewed-up toast in your pocket
Marbles in your shoe,
And undies that perch on the lightshade
And threaten to land on you.
Evertone talks, no-one listens,
No other sound can break through
So when I crawl in at six-thirty,
No-one says 'Dad, how are you? '
Conkers congeal in the bathroom,
Jaffa cakes stick around too -
I run to our bedroom in panic
But I can still hear the hullaballoo!
There's a witches hat on the wardrobe,
It might cast a spell or two -
If only it turned kids into budgies -
(Jesus, I'm crazy too!)
My mouth is dry and I'm shaking
Must escape to the Nag's Head for a few -
So now you know why we lily-livered fathers
Stay out for as long as we do!
Love the title and the rhythms of this. I have watched this scene at my sister's house. Perfectly captured. thank you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
So are you mum or dad? If your mum writing from dad's perspective, how very understanding, I like this, think I'll read some more....David