Me Time

Me Time
Jesus Christ,
for goodness sake.
The bloody kids
are still awake…
I’ve pleaded once.
I’ve pleaded twice.
I’ve been a twat,
and I’ve tried quite nice.
It’s half past 8,
I still hear noise.
Bare feet moving,
the clank of toys.
I shout up the stairs.
“It’s adult time!”
“Just go to sleep.”
“It’s nearly nine.”
But it all just fails,
and bedtime’s shite.
I go back up,
switch off the light.
Then all goes quiet
and all is dark.
And the bloody dog
begins to bark.
The baby howls
and the toddler whines.
I really felt
I’d lost my mind.
I returned upstairs,
I tucked them in.
I turned off the light,
retrieved my gin.
I warned the dog,
I listen out.
They didn’t murmur
and didn’t shout.
I felt relieved,
the kids in bed.
I battled through it
and kept my head.
And undefeated
my time began.
I’d watch a film,
that was my plan.
It wasn’t 10,
the night was young.
My ‘me time’ party
had just begun.
I hit the sofa
in a knackered heap.
I switched on the telly
and fell asleep.
Mrs FD
Tags: bedtimes
That is an awesome poem. I love it, sums up most of my nights too lol.