Now this is not a usual post for me. I used to write poetry many years ago. I don’t know whether it is night feeds or being a stay at home mum that has tipped me over the edge but I have been thinking about this for a couple of weeks and I just had to get it out.
Stick Man is G’s favourite book at the moment. We read it to him countless times a day and, through those times, I’ve had a lot of time to think.
Here is my alternative version of the Stick Man.
The day that Stick Man went out for a jog,
He enjoyed his time out (except for the dog)
Stick lady love had been moaning for days
and the stick children three were wild in their ways.
Clean up, do DIY and other demands
Were thrown at poor Stick Man and his twiggy stick hands.
Leaves each night for tea never, ever a change
A few days away stopped Stick shouting with rage.
The problems arose when Santa told him to go back
To the family tree and the marital sack.
His head had been turned by a pretty, young stick
Who didn’t nag him all day, now who should he pick?
His decision was made when he found out news big
That Stick Lady love had herself found a twig.
The thought of his wife having more fun than him
Sent him flying back home and joining a gym.
The news of Stick Lady finding new love herself
Had sent him demented. She should have been on the shelf.
He really had loved his new life agenda
With fun, drugs and booze he had been on a bender.
I’m not a home breaker
I’m down on my knees.
I’m sorry stick, I’m sorry stick, I’m sorry stick that’s me
And I wont moan again about leaves for my tea.