Oh, you will never read this
For blogging you do hate
But I know soon is your holiday
So for you these verses I’ll create.
You bring home all our bacon,
And do all the nasty chores –
Like mowing and tarring the driveway
And killing spiders, crickets, and more.
You never complain or raise your voice
Even when all hell breaks loose.
I owe it to you that I can stay calm
When between our rascals I call truce.
You put up with most anything
From poop to spit up to Frozen
Or when Toddler points to your big mole
Saying, “Is a third nipple on all men???”
When I have had a rough day
And by 5 feel like running away
You take them for a wagon ride
And with a smile create such fun play.
Though I know I’m a good mother
And our kids love me to bits
(They just pretend to love me best)
You’re the one with whom it all fits.
This household would be nothing without you.
Our kids would wander and cry,
“Flying airplane, please daddy!
You know how best to us make fly!”
For truly, dear, you are the best!
We’re lucky (and we know it).
For if there was a Daddy Emmy,
Believe me: you would win it.