It was early in life....
When I heard from my wife....
Some complaints of my youth hanging on....
Not to worry, my dear....
I’ll grow up, never fear....
On the day that my children are gone....
After work, although late....
All the children would wait....
Until I would arrive at the door....
And I knew that the shout....
“Daddy’s home!” would ring out....
To displace all the quiet there before....
Then like patches of glue....
Each would sit on a shoe....
With a hug on a leg, for support....
Clomping ‘round each one goes....
Bouncing bottoms on toes....
Bringing squeals of delight for the sport....
Now the children, though loud....
Didn’t sound like a crowd....
‘Till the roar of their father chimed in....
The sound of a tickle....
Would grow from a trickle....
To an obnoxious, outrageous din!....
I suspect what I did....
When I played like a kid....
Was to act like an overgrown jerk....
It was hard to ignore....
That she loved me much more....
When I left, the next morning, for work!....
It’s with joy I behold....
How my children grew old....
Now my wife thinks their Daddy should, too....
Although still like a pup....
It’s for sure I’ll grow up....
Just as soon as my grandchildren do!....
Related Posts
