Do you remember well the feeling,
The one of utter joy?
When they held aloft the baby
And announced that ‘It’s a boy!’
There’s a reason they don’t tell you,
Exactly what’s in store,
‘cos if they did you may have leaped
Straight out the fecking door.
Boys should come with manuals
And a helmet on the head
Or bottles full of Valium
For their poor old mums instead.
It all starts with the willie
And some would argue there it stays,
But I’m on about the nappy change
And the direction that it sprays.
Pee hits the couch, it hits the dog,
Now Junior has let fly,
But yes, you will still smile at him as
He pisses in your eye.
So then he starts to toddle,
His footprints in the hall,
He’s toilet trained, well sort off
‘cos now he pisses on the wall.
Some Boys have a pungency
It starts about age three
Like rotting mounds of Brussels sprouts
Or something dead plucked from the sea.
They have certain rules of logic
When they begin to play,
Climb it or destroy it
If it appears it’s in the way.
‘Sit down & be quiet’
Are words they just don’t understand,
God help you when the hormones flood
From the pituitary gland.
You’ll have boners, spots, wet beds and thumps
Before lunchtime on most days,
And Grans & Grandads telling you,
‘it’s fine, it’s just a phase’.
So if you can, relax and sigh,
Through all the tantrums, pee and goo.
One day your boy becomes a man
And says ‘Mum, how I love you.’
Sinead Hamill http://www.writeforme.ie/