I don't want to cuddled.
Don't want to be held.
Don't like to be looked at, talked to
or smelled.
Don't want to sing songs
Don't want to play
I'm just mad as hell
Someone's ruined my day.
My face is bright red
My screaming? Full throttle!
No, I DON'T want a back rub
a boob or a bottle.
I put on a show
the whole house - my stage
I'm quite the performer:
16 Pounds Of Rage!
Mom looks like hell
Daddy's gone for a beer
So I guess for today...
The tantrum stops here.
Thor's Grandma Burbach shared this site with me over Easter. Let's just say Jeff and I can relate with our nine pounds of rage! The poem is hilarious, we both laughed out loud.
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