Worst. Parents. Ever.

You asked for one and I said: “Fine,”
“One but then no more.”
But then you smiled so sweetly
And said you’d rather four.

I said “No. You don’t need more,
That one will more than do.
Try these carrot sticks instead,
Or a strawberry or two.”

You shook your head and stomped your feet
And said I was the worst.
Your little face went bright red,
You looked like you would burst.

But I was standing firm this time,
Mummy can be tough.
I let you have that one,
And that one was quite enough.

So you tried a different trick
And called out for your dad.
Maybe he would give in
If your eyes looked extra sad

But sorry pal, Daddy’s not
As soft as he might seem.
He and Mummy made a vow
To do this as a team.

So now the both of us
Are vapid, mean and shallow.
All because I let you have
One fluffy white marshmallow.


Toddler dinnertime: Resolution in Rhyme

I really don’t love cooking,
But I really do love you.
For you I would do anything,
Even learn to cook a stew.

In my head I keep a list
Of foods that you prefer.
I know you like to help,
So I always let you stir.

I cook for health and taste,
Put a rainbow on your plate.
I time it oh so carefully,
Not too early, not too late.

Finally the moment comes
To call you to your chair.
We start the meal with such high hopes
But soon there comes despair.

It makes your mama sad
To see salmon on the floor;
Mashed potato on the walls,
Peas rolling out the door.

I know that before bedtime
You just want to have more fun.
But you haven’t even had one bite,
When I hear you shout “All done!”

So I’ve decided in the future,
I’m going to save my time.
You can have a sandwich.
Mummy’s having wine.

Prose for Thought

The Quiet Corner

This is my space, my quiet space,
Where I can come to breathe.
I don’t need noise, and I don’t need toys,
All I need is me.

I rest my feet and I’m grateful,
For the places they’ve helped me to go.
But now is a time for stillness,
Now is a time for slow.

I rest my legs and I’m grateful,
That they’ve helped me to walk so far.
But now is no time for movement,
Now is a time for calm.

I rest my arms and I’m grateful,
For all the balls they’ve thrown.
But now is no time for games with friends,
Now is just time for alone.

I rest my hands and I’m grateful,
For all that they’ve helped me to make.
But now I feel them nice and still,
Now is their time for a break.

I rest my eyes and I’m grateful,
For all that they’ve helped me to see.
But now is no time for the big, wide world,
Now is just time for me.

Prose for Thought

Pickles and Trouble

“Come here, little friend” said Trouble to Pickles.
“Come here, little friend” said He.
“We’ll have fun, little friend” said Trouble to Pickles.
“You’ll always have great fun with me.”

“There are treats in the cupboard” said Trouble to Pickles,
“They are not so impossibly high.
Just drag that chair over towards the bench,
It won’t be too tricky to climb.”

“There are stones in that pond” said Trouble to Pickles,
You can see they are ever so near.
Get close to the edge and reach your arm in,
You really have nothing to fear.”

“There is room in that drawer” said Trouble to Pickles,
For someone your size to squeeze.
Won’t it be fun to hide in there?
I promise it will be a breeze.”

“There are markers left out” said Trouble to Pickles,
And I know how you love to draw.
Everyone loves your pictures so.
Why not do one on the floor?”

“There is more fun outside” said Trouble to Pickles,
And I’ve noticed the door is ajar,
You can slip out unnoticed and no one will mind.
You don’t have to go terribly far.”

“Come here, little friend” said Trouble to Pickles.
“Come here, little friend” said He.
“Of course, my dear friend” said Pickles to Trouble.
“You always can count on me!”

Prose for Thought