I look forward to the mornings,
When I lift you from your bed.
When we cuddle on the sofa,
And I kiss your fuzzy head.
You drink your milk, I glug my tea,
You steal my toast as we watch TV.
Socks on, shoes on,
Bags packed, we’re gone.
Out of the house and up the hill,
Waving to cats on the window sill.
You’ll scamper and dance and drive toy cars,
Paint hand shaped trees and shooting stars.
One day you’ll have to be grown up,
Drink coffee from a paper cup.
And spend your time to earn a fee,
With no more naps before your tea.
Good days are when I run your bath,
Wind up your duck and watch you splash.
Wrap you in a fluffy robe,
You sit on my knee and I read you prose,
About a witch on a broom with a long ginger plait,
A bear who can’t sleep or Dave the cat.
I wish I could be there every night,
To tuck you in and kiss you goodnight.
But some days I get trapped,
By computers and phones.
And you’re long gone to bed
Before I get home.
Categories: Being Dad