I mentioned in my previous post that I’d
had little time for online pontification. To elaborate slightly on this, it’s
because my wife and I recently became parents, with all the privileges and
responsibilities that come with it.
Frankly, that serves as all the preamble
you should require for the verses below, which are to be sung to the tune of The
Hippopotamus Song by Flanders and Swann, and describe just some of the unending
pleasures that parenthood brings.
The Joys of Parenthood
A cute little baby was lying one night,
Quiet and still in his sleep.
When an unpleasant feeling came over the mite,
That welled up from somewhere so deep.
A sense that his stomach was nowhere near full,
And needed some thing put inside.
No buts and no maybe,
And so that small baby,
Woke up, and he violently cried:
"Milk, milk, lovely milk,
Perfect for babies and all of their ilk,
Oh feed me, oh feed me,
Oh parents I'm needy,
I'm feeling so greedy for lovely milk!"
His parents awoke and jumped out of their bed,
Though they were both mostly asleep.
They ran for the kitchen but met up instead,
And both of them fell in a heap.
They scrambled back up and they made up some milk,
From a carton of powdery stuff.
They did what you oughta,
And mixed it with water,
And hoped that it would be enough.
"Milk, milk, lovely milk,
Perfect for babies and all of their ilk,
Oh feed me, oh feed me,
Oh parents I'm needy,
I'm feeling so greedy for lovely milk!"
They rushed to his side with the bottle in hand,
They got the teat into his mouth.
For just a few seconds it all seemed quite grand,
Then everything quickly went south.
He gave what they thought was a beautiful smile,
Then a stench started filling the air.
His parents, unhappy,
Looked down at his nappy,
And then looked back up in despair.
"Milk, milk, lovely milk,
Perfect for babies and all of their ilk,
Oh feed me, oh feed me,
Oh parents I'm needy,
I'm feeling so greedy for lovely milk!"
They looked at each other and said, 'It's your turn!"
The dad rolled his eyes but agreed.
He opened the nappy, it made his guts churn,
As he looked at the latest misdeed.
Wielding a wipe he began on his task,
Cleaning with well-practiced grace.
But he hadn't reckoned,
In that very second,
The baby'd wee right in his face!
"Milk, milk, lovely milk,
Perfect for babies and all of their ilk,
Oh feed me, oh feed me,
Oh parents I'm needy,
I'm feeling so greedy for lovely milk!"
The mother stepped forward, her son to attend,
While her husband was spitting out wee.
The baby looked winsome and tried to pretend,
"The culprit, oh mother's not me!"
She got him redressed and had picked him back up,
When she came to a juddering stop.
As fast as a comet,
Her darling boy vomited
Right down the front of her top!
"Milk, milk, lovely milk,
Perfect for babies and all of their ilk,
Oh feed me, oh feed me,
Oh parents I'm needy,
I'm feeling so greedy for lovely milk!"
An hour or two later the parents retired,
The baby once more in his bed.
Weary and dampened, joint-achingly tired,
Their eyes were all puffy and red.
They both lay back down and had just drifted off,
When they heard a familiar strain.
The baby was telling,
By means of its yelling,
"Oh parents! I'm hungry again!"
"Milk, milk, lovely milk,
Perfect for babies and all of their ilk,
Oh feed me, oh feed me,
Oh parents I'm needy,
I'm feeling so greedy for lovely milk!"
Copyright Thomas Jones 2019
