The baby boys are coming;
A good time will be had by all
Won't know when until they get here
Because their mom can't call.
I seems that one of the boys
Threw her phone into the toilet
How will she disinfect it,
Since she surely can't boil it?
But more to the point at hand,
How will she communicate
So we'll know how much time I have
To clean while we must wait.
"What," you say, "you're cleaning
Before the boys come to play?
This seems to be a silly way
To begin this grand holiday."
Cookie goop is on the floor
And the counters in the kitchen.
I don't want them to think that
This is how we greet our friends.
And I like to know that
Everything has its own place
Before we begin running
The two and four-year-old race.
And, of course, there will be gift
Wrappings strewn across the floor.
We don't want this stuck in
Cookie goop and tracked out the door.
We also must make space for them to
Play with their new race track.
When they go to their house,
We can put our furniture back.
And when playtime is over,
And its time to go to bed,
And we speak the words that
All playful children dread,
"Pick up the toys and
Put them neatly away."
They will have some idea
Of where each toy should stay.
