It was my sons first birthday, it's where it began
I opened the door and in they ran
Leaving dirty foot prints all over the floor
'If you don't take your shoes off i will throw you out the door'
Walking in, in twos and threes
'I hope none of you are carrying flees'
Opening Presents, paper all over the room
'Which one of you kids can use a broom? '
They all run in every direction
My house now a mess no longer perfection
Now it's come to eating the food
Taking small bites and putting it back now I think thats rude
Things they don't like going under the sofer
Three little boys putting buns in the toaster
Me going spare wishing I'd never allowed this party
Kids thinking it's funny acting like a real smarty
It's time to go we will see you all soon
I'm avoiding it next year because i'm going to live on the moon
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.