I took care of my baby
I kept him safe from harm
I washed him, fed him, changed him
He never felt alarm.

Now he is a teenager
All he does is moan,
No sign of him achieving
A life all of his own.

He still wants me to feed him,
With pizza now and chips,
In order to get him to have a bath
It takes threats involving whips.

(it does too it’s not just a good rhyme)

I thought things would get easier
It’s tough being a Mum
I suppose I should be thankful
He can manage to wipe his own bum.