This summer holiday is a bit of a strange one for me. On the Friday that the schools broke up, instead of picking up The Tots from nursery full of excitement, I was in surgery having a planned operation. Planning for the time off work was one thing, but planning for time off my mum-duties was a whole ‘nother level of “What now!?” #mumdown
Luckily The Hubby took the first week of my recovery off work, and thus was born:
Ode to Super-Daddy-Pig!
He swoops in with star-spangled pants.
No cheeky offspring stands a chance!
Picks up the daily house-chore list!
(Most of which are promptly missed.
“But those are pointless tasks” he’ll say.
Don’t need to do them anyway!)
He’ll chose one job from those I ask,
Puff out his chest and single-task!
Just ONE per day. Then have a rest.
Lord Daddy-Pig does not get stressed.
He CAN cook porridge. In a pan!
No flies on him he’s Superman!
He’s made it once.
He’s so impressed.
Declares HIS breakfasts are the best!
Potatoes shall be cooked with skin.
And lobbed into a baking tin.
No “nonsense food” like fluffy cake.
All food groups needs are met with steak.
No tot shall dare to be strong-willed.
Discipline shall be instilled!
Before you ask – The answer’s “No.”
Because Lord Daddy Pig says so!
No naughty backchat shall be braved
No children shall be misbehaved!
Child-care’s easy. Not a hassle.
Chuck them on the bouncy castle!
He’ll teach them how to fly a kite!
The siblings will not dare to fight.
Unruffled by a rainy day,
He’ll whisk them off to do soft play!
He’ll demonstrate his perfect ways.
Without a glitch for 6 WHOLE DAYS!
He’ll earn his flying-solo wings.
He expert it at ALL the things!
And all shall cheer and shall applaud
As he collects his Dad Award!
… And so we should.
Despite the jest.
He honestly has been the best.
When I have wobbled, whinged and *whispers* …cried.
He’s always been there at my side.
When I was still too weak to stand,
He took my arm and held my hand.
He bought me ice-cream. Very kind.
(Then ate it, but I didn’t mind.)
As cabin fever hustled in
He grabbed the flask and biscuit tin.
And took us for a drive – not far,
So we could picnic in the car.
As I get better day by day,
He’s always there in every way.
He sometimes ‘dads’ outside the box
Perhaps not always orthodox.
But I owe him a million thanks.
He’s earned those stars upon his pants.
In times like these it’s clear to see.
He’s Super-Daddy-Pig to me.
Thanks The Hub.
You’re the best.