The ballad of Jamie Jones

Not long ago, in a land far away
Lived a woman who had a quite terrible day
It started quite early, and not in her bed
Instead on the floor, with a boy on her head
Twas early, it was, at twenty past three
'I need to go poo, I need to go wee'.
A little bit later and both back asleep
(He merely resting and she sleeping deep)
Again she's awoken, at quarter past four
When he steps over her on the way to the door.
'I just going' he says, in a nonchalant way.
She puts him back, but he just will not stay.

The hours, they pass, with Mum in a daze.
She's pleading: 'Dear Lord, let this be a phase!'
So run-down is she that she's picked up a cold
She's feeling so wretched, and grouchy, and old.
Her head's so congested, her ears they are ringing
From aggressive nose-blowing, the skin red and stinging.
But greatest of all, she's knackered, so tired
If this was a job, she'd wish she'd be fired
Because she really can't do this, it's far from alright
When one eye looks to the left and the other looks right.

In her fatigue, she sees bugs on the floor
Her head feels so heavy, she can take it no more.
'I must have a shower, as soon as Maia's asleep!
If I don't get some peace, I know I will weep!'
But as soon as she's wet, he's ensuring her haste
He sits on the toilet, eating lots of toothpaste.

The day, as per usual, a string of demands:
'I brush my teeth, I wash my hands,
I need Ryvita, no butter just jelly
I go in your bedroom, I watch the telly,
I need an apple, you wash it, you peel
No, not that one... this one. It's better I feel.
Stop what you're doing, come here next to me
Let's play with my toys, let's watch the TV.
Mum, you run really fast, with the ball in the hall
My hands they were dirty, I wipe them on wall
No, Mummy, NO! I NO have Time Out!
You have Time Out! You're naughty, you shout!
I gonna be loud, until Maia wakes up!
I need Weetabix, no milk, in a cup.

The day passes slowly, she's watching the clock
(As her daughter continues sporting her sock)
In the pursuit of caffeine, when she leaves the room
She's summoned back with a scream or a boom
'What is it now?! Just give me some peace!'
This fighting, and biting and poking must cease!
The dramas continue, all through the day
'Maia hit me, she pushed me, she bit me!' he'd say,
Mum would sigh 'Why?', knowing full well
That being so little, the truth he would tell.
'Cause I took her dolly and I threw it right there,
and I ate her biscuit, and I pulled her hair.'
'Well, stop doing that, and she will not bite,
She is just little, stop picking a fight.'

'I know, I'll take out their workman's tool set!
It'll give me a minute for lunch, or a coffee I bet!
More screaming and tears from the King of the Criers
'I squeezed my wee man with my plastic play pliers!'
'Why would you do that?! You know it'll be sore!'
'I like it' he says, 'I do it some more'.
She has to get dressed, it's quarter to three
Living in sweatpants is quite shaming, you see.
She sneaks to her bedroom, undressing in stealth
She mutters, 'These children are no good for my health'
Gone less than two minutes, and what does she ken?
'Mum, Maia drawing on the couch with your pen!'
'Maia don't do that, it is bad, it is wrong,
Why can't I get dressed, it doesn't take long!'
She thinks back to a time when when life was more fair
When she could get dressed, or blow dry her hair.

But hark, what is that! It sounds like a key!
'Yes, it's Daddy, he's home, he's come to save me!'
Her saviour, her hero, he's home at long last!
'Get these kids to their beds, and get them there fast!'
Come dinner, come baths, come stories, teeth-brushing!
Come kisses, and cuddles, (no doubt, they are rushing)
And finally sleep, and peace more or less
They survey the scene, they clean up the mess.
Lying in bed, her heart full of sorrow,
That she'll do it again, most likely tomorrow.