For those days when they are driving me nuts.

Kicking and screaming,


Tearing and swearing.


If they keep this up much longer,


I won't be caring,


About who is the bad one and who is the good


I'd just run away if I thought that I could.


This fighting is not ceasing,


It never will stop,


It just keeps on going,


It's past twelve o clock.


They are biting and clawing and throwing their toys,


and making the most horrible kind of noise.


I've tried everything,

from spankings to bribes.


There is not a drug that the Doc can prescribe


to cure me of this evil that resides in my crib.


Yes, I am talking about my sweet little kids.


They're ornery and rotten, their nasty and mean.


They only like candy, but hate pinto beans.


They barrage me with questions, with demands galore,


They have so many toys, I can't see the floor.


They are just spoiled rotten from their head to their toes,


I hate when they won't let me blow their runny nose.


But some how I love them, though they are dastardly beasts.


They always look like angels, well at least when they sleep.