and a comb,
Assorted coloured lipsticks, someone's mobile phone.
Watch out for trailing paper, from excursions to a store
And female hygiene products, guaranteed to roll across the floor.
Scribbled notes and numbers, a business card, or three,
A little thumbed address book, shrivelled leaf from a tree.
Scoop out the clips and hair ties, the plastic ring from Christmas dinner.
Loose coins will rattle round the seams, it should now be getting thinner.
Then finally invert the bag, wait for the dregs to drop,
Then you'll find the bunch of keys
And the sticky lollypop.
SATURDAY SOCCER
Got the shorts, got the boots,
Oranges in a box.
Got the drink, got the pads
But as usual, not the socks.
Got the map, got the gas
Instructions where to go.
Got my coat, got my scarf,
Hope all the boys will show.
Got the field, got the coach,
The opposition's here.
Got the team, got the talk,
Now it's time to cheer.
Got the ball, got the space,
Dribble kick and score.
Got the crowd, got the boys
Yelling out for more.
Got the blues, got the frown.
Didn't win this time.
Got the ref, got the coach
Saying they played fine.
Got the mud, got the grass
In the car again.
Got the boy, got the smile,
Next week's another game.
QUESTIONS
Why is the sky blue, Mum?
Can cars be made to float?
How cold is it in Afghanistan?
What colour is a stoat?
Who invented mustard?
What makes a TV picture move?
How long does a cow sleep for?
What makes a Smoothie smooth?
What use is learning algebra?
(I think that there he has a point)
What makes a rocket engine work?
Where is your metacarpal joint?
How far is it to Timbuktu?
Can fish feel any pain?
These questions and may more
To school and back again.
WASHING PILE
Like some horror movie monster,
It seems organically to grow,
Every day evolving,
Its progress never slow.
It is almost metamorphic,
Oozing eerily across the floor,
Mysteriously moving,
Now spreading through the door.
There is just one way to tame it,
Meditate for at least a day,
Wrestle it into a bundle
And fold the beast away!
FROM THE MOUTHS OF BABES
The blonde haired sleepy angel,
Lips like petals from a rose.
Looks up at me and whispers...
"I can see right up your nose."
MINCE
Mince, glorious mince! The universal dinner
Turn it into Bolognese, it's bound to be a winner!
In a pan with herbs and veg, then very gently fry,
Mash some spuds and splodge on top, I'll have a shepherd's pie!
There's hamburgers and meatloaf, 'though not a classic roast,
And of course the husband's favourite, simple mince on toast.
Maybe meatballs or cannelloni, what on earth shall I make?
I could layer up lasagne, but it takes a while to bake!
Every time I'm desperate, as the dripping lump is thawing,
I search for different recipes but mince is still so boring!
I'd rather take this bloody mince, ground up meat and fat,
Return it to the freezer or feed it to the cat!
Mince, glorious mince! The universal dinner,
While deciding what to do with it, the family's getting thinner!
THE BIRTHDAY CAKE
It's just before midnight, and all through the house,
I'm the only one stirring, we don't have a mouse.
There's a birthday tomorrow, I made a mistake,
Bought all the birthday food, forgotten the cake!
I stir in the kitchen, eggs, butter and flour,
Wait 'till it cooks and cools, over an hour.
I turn out the cake, from my new non-stick tin
And would you believe it, the thing is stuck in!
I bash it with vigour, until out the cake comes,
A pile of pieces, a mountain of crumbs!
Then out with the icing, colours gaudy and bright,
I'll turn my disaster into birthday delight.
Slice off the bits that are stuck at the side
Plaster with icing, so the cracks I can hide.
Then I smother the top with things bad for the teeth,
You'd not guess the disaster that's lurking beneath!
Now I hide it away from all eyes that are small
And sleepily off to my bed I then crawl...
Party time's here, with excitement galore!
There's cake on their faces, but more on the floor.
In minutes my cake disappears out of sight
And nobody knows of my long lonely night!
HOW TO BECOME INVISIBLE
You've pampered and you've preened, are immaculately dressed,
There's a client who needs schmoozing, bosses to impress.
People around the table are chatting animatedly
Then the conversations lulls and someone says to me...
"And what do you do"
Instead of saying "I'm a chef, teacher, supplier of tape and glue,
A chauffeur, accountant and negotiator too,"
I smile a wry smile, because I know just what's to come,
Cast the Invisibility Spell with, "I am just a mum."
Poof, gone.
SWIMMING LESSONS
The fuggy smell of chlorine
Is clogging up my brain.
The heat makes me feel droopy,
Outside it starts to rain.
I occupy my plastic chair,
Moulded to fit my rear.
Warmed by my posterior,
Once a week for seven years.
As each successive sibling
Bubbles, breast strokes, breathes,
I sit here in my plastic chair
Until it's time to leave.
I'm glad they're not champions,
Getting up at five o'clock,
The plastic chairs would be too cold,
My derriere would be in shock!
So until the lesson's over
And each child, its lengths complete,
I'll doze here in a chlorine haze,
Here, in my plastic seat.
WOBBLY TEETH
Don't wiggle that tooth at me sweetie,
It makes me feel horribly sick.
I know that it's really exciting,
But can't you just pull it out, quick?
Don't jiggle that tooth at me dearest,
You know that it makes me feel ill.
I'll have bad dreams of the dentist
And the spine-chilling whine of his drill!
Don't waggle that tooth at me darling,
It makes my stomach turn flips.
Please do me a favour my lovely,
And smile while clamping your lips!
BEAM ME BACK TO VENUS
Beam me up, please, someone
Back to Venus, or was it Mars?
I've had enough of terrorism,
Global warming, Hollywood stars.
Beam me up, please, someone
Where it's quite with no noise
So I'll be woken when I want to,
Not by boisterous girls and boys.
Beam me up, please, someone
Just for a little while.
Enough to get my humour back
And polish up my smile.
Beam me up, please, someone
Then switch the time machine to ON
So I don't miss a single minute
Of their lives while I am gone.
LITTLE YELLOW DUMMY
The little yellow dummy
Is missing from the bag!
I've got the purple blanky
That's looking like a rag.
There's Pinky the knitted rabbit,
Ears all sucked and chewed,
And the extra nappies
When the old ones are renewed.
Another change of clothing
With the picture of the kite.
Don't know if I'll need them
So where's the yellow dummy?
I can't leave without that thing!
I need its soothing comfort,
The swift silence that it brings.
Hey! There's the yellow dummy!
No need for more despair,
I've found the little sucker
Rolling underneath the chair.
So in the car I clamber,
But... something missed, maybe?
There's no one in the car seat!
WHERE DID I PUT THE BABY?
THE PRIZE
I won "The Worst Mother In All The World"
Unbelievable, but it's true.
Don't be disappointed,
You've probably been told it's you.
But I won "The Worst Mother In All the World"
Because apparently I tried
To make her life a misery,
I'm a thorn stabbed in her side.
But as "The Worst Mother In All World"
I sadly must relent
To a friend whose son has branded her
"Not Fit to Be A Parent"
Can't top that one.
BATTLE SCARS
The boy is full of injuries
From his toes up to his chin.
His scars can tell his story,
And the bruises on his shin.
His knees are scraped and rubbed
From skidding in the dirt.
Big toes are always bleeding
Where they were stubbed and hurt.
He hasn't broken any bones.
(I'll keep my fingers crossed)
But his stomach bears a little scar
Where his appendix, it was lost!
He came home from a bike ride once,
Elbows raw and bleeding,
Turned full circle on the track
When down a hill was speeding.
"Be careful!' is a waste of breath,
For an enthusiastic son,
So I keep a full first aid kit,
'Cause I'm sure there's more to come!
THE PERFORMER
I'm really not a Ballet Mum, I just don't fit the type,
I detest doing hair up, it never turns out right.
Pink is a colour elder daughter never wore,
(I was also anti-Barbie, now they're stacked up in a drawer).
Frilly little dresses did nothing much for me,
Poor elder daughter begged for one, when she was turning three.
"I want to go to ballet," not what I want to hear,
But I gave the girl a go at it, maybe just a year.
So off she goes to ballet, followed by jazz and tap,
While I creep off to the café and take a little nap.
But when the concert comes around, rehearsals all the