You’re tired and cranky; It’s Friday afternoon. You want to go home, And not a minute too soon. But it’s the School Christmas Fair, You really should attend, To show your support, With lots of 50ps to spend. The kids are excited, As you wait outside in line, But your mind is elsewhere, Dreaming of post-bedtime wine.
With no advanced notice This thing appears; Fur matted and tatty It’s been abused for years. “It’s the class mascot” they say “Look in the book” I scowl at the teacher, And take her bag off the hook. Back at home, With a gin in hand, I read all the pages And develop a plan.
“How old is your baby?” “One year old,” I reply, “Oh gosh, I bet that year Has really flown right by.” “Yes!” I nod in agreement, “I’m not sure where it’s gone! It seems like only yesterday This baby boy was born…” She looks me up and down, A frown upon her face, A negative comment is coming, I prepare myself and brace: