You don’t give two f*@ks,
Before 9am, you’ve taken faeces to the face.
Your hair’s a mess,
The lack of wine is making you stressed,
It’ll be a miracle if you make it through the day.
The toddler’s got the runs,
Today’s ‘swim-date’ might be a bad idea…
You opt for soft play instead,
Now you wish you were dead,
Thank the gin-lords that Wednesday’s finally here.
As you head into Thursday,
You’re more than a little thirsty,
Time to move this baby playdate to the pub.
Another Friday night at home,
You’ll be grabbing your iPhone,
To play CandyCrush with a Lion bar in the tub.
Saturday’s come around.
Time to take it lying down,
As you get your only lie-in of the week.
Daddy’s turn to entertain the kids,
Take the puking, deal with skids,
And spend the night sat on the sofa too exhausted to speak.
Lastly we’re on to Sunday,
Time for a family fun-day,
To make you feel less shit about the hangover pain.
But when the kids are tucked in bed,
You’ll be having a cheeky glass of red,
Ready for Monday-bastard-morning once again.