Is it me who’s old and sad, Or are all kids really bad. They won’t do this, they can’t do that. They make you look a total Pratt. Eat your tea; Come on get dressed, Was I always-such a pest? The looks I get, the tuts and groans, Oh god, my aching bones. I don’t like beans; I don’t like roast, I don’t want yakkey cheese on toast. I don’t want healthy grapes for sweet, I want a chocolate mousse to eat. Don’t answer back, Do as you’re told, Don’t shout so loud, I’m not that old. Why can’t they just be good and quiet? The noise they make sounds like a riot. I want some sweets; I need a poo, I want to paint, and stick with glue. I want more biscuits I want more pop, I want a toy from every shop. I want to splash in mud with jellies, Don’t want to wear my stupid wellies. I want Blue’s clue’s and Spot the Dog. Postman Pat and Builder Bob. Sooty, Sweep, B 1, B 2, What the hell am I to do? It can’t be me who’s old and sad? Must be the kids that drive me mad!
Reason for writing:
my kids
Birth sign: Taurus
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