MORNINGS

Mornings are the time
That I hate the most
Rushing to do anything
Even fixing toast
It never matters when I rise
I always feel behind
It's all the unexpected stuff
That puts me in a bind
I dress the kids and make the beds
It all seems very easy
But spilled juice and a ringing phone
Make me mad and kinda queasy
Some mornings are so bad
That though I try my best
What if simple chores aren't done?
Like getting MYSELF dressed?!
I know it will get better
As the kids grow and get older
But until that good day does arrive
I will cry on anyone's shoulder
And pray that things won't get too bad
Or that I won't come unglued
'Cause I'd hate to leave the house to find
I'm driving in the nude!