What do you do all day?

I can’t understand parents like you.
If you don’t mind me asking, what do you do?

My face flushes red. I’m not really sure.
It’s certainly different from my life before.

I drive trains and buses, trucks and cars,
Build my own spaceships and fly to the stars.

I scrub and wipe and pick up blocks,
Wash shirts and pants and piles of socks.

I’m a tiger, a frog, a monkey, a goat.
I sail away in a pea green boat.

I make meals and snacks; most earnest of cooks.
Read hundreds and thousands and millions of books.

I sing and I dance and I play the drum,
I answer every “What’s this, Mum?”

I do the shopping, unpack it on shelves,
(With “help” from two mischievous elves!)

I walk to the park and push the swings,
And supervise all of the trickier things.

I’m a doctor with special first aid supplies;
Kisses and cuddles and drying of eyes.

I splash in water, make castles in sand,
My artistic skills are in high demand.

I clean and dress as little ones wriggle.
I smile and sigh and grumble and giggle.

And when night time falls after all of this;
I seal the day with a goodnight kiss.

Prose for Thought
Happy Diaries

21 thoughts on “What do you do all day?

    1. Thanks Mackenzie. Yes, sometimes it seems like such a loaded question. But I guess if you’ve never stayed at home with kids, it would be hard to know!

  1. Very catchy poem! Sums up the work of a mother – and I have to smile when I read about creativity in high demand. I have none to speak of, but to the kids, oh my! πŸ˜€ #happydiary

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