There are boys in my house – and Spiderman shoes
And 200 papers in various blues.
There's Bob (he's a builder) and Thomas the Train,
There's a fireman coat to wear in the rain.
They have cars on their shirts and frogs on their hats
There's a glove and a ball and a red plastic bat.
There's dirt on a face and a smudge on a nose;
Grass stains on knees and sand between toes.
There's bathtime at night with bodies to scrub,
And when we're all done there is dirt in the tub!
There are bandaids and bruises and curious bumps,
There are smiles and laughter and sometimes there are grumps.
There are odors most icky; there are boogers so green
There are more yucky things than I'll ever get clean.
There are piles of laundry; there are stories at night;
There's bedtime and bathtime and dinnertime fights.
There are cars and there are trains and there are books about trucks
There's Scoop, Lofty, Dizzy, and Travis, and Muck.
Sometimes there are bugs, and sometimes there are frogs;
Sometimes they are lions, or dinos, or dogs.
There are cute little vests and darling neckties
Dragged right through the mud – oh what a surprise!
There's running and climbing and jumping and falling
And laughing and crying and hugging and brawling
And rolling and losing and finding and creeping
And whining and stealing, and sometimes there's sleeping.
There are tantrums and time outs and extra loud noise –
There's love in my house shaped like two* little boys.
And 200 papers in various blues.
There's Bob (he's a builder) and Thomas the Train,
There's a fireman coat to wear in the rain.
They have cars on their shirts and frogs on their hats
There's a glove and a ball and a red plastic bat.
There's dirt on a face and a smudge on a nose;
Grass stains on knees and sand between toes.
There's bathtime at night with bodies to scrub,
And when we're all done there is dirt in the tub!
There are bandaids and bruises and curious bumps,
There are smiles and laughter and sometimes there are grumps.
There are odors most icky; there are boogers so green
There are more yucky things than I'll ever get clean.
There are piles of laundry; there are stories at night;
There's bedtime and bathtime and dinnertime fights.
There are cars and there are trains and there are books about trucks
There's Scoop, Lofty, Dizzy, and Travis, and Muck.
Sometimes there are bugs, and sometimes there are frogs;
Sometimes they are lions, or dinos, or dogs.
There are cute little vests and darling neckties
Dragged right through the mud – oh what a surprise!
There's running and climbing and jumping and falling
And laughing and crying and hugging and brawling
And rolling and losing and finding and creeping
And whining and stealing, and sometimes there's sleeping.
There are tantrums and time outs and extra loud noise –
There's love in my house shaped like two* little boys.
*I didn't write this, but I found it on Crystal's blog and thought it was absolutely perfect! And, of course, we have three boys in our house, but the little one isn't quite in this category yet--though I know it's coming. I just love my boys so much, dirt and all!
Perfect poem for any mother of young boys. How sad is it that I totally get the Scoop, Muck, and Dizzy line. It's so much fun, though.
ReplyDeleteI got that line, too! And this whole boy thing is definitely all kinds of crazy fun!
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