The Boy Mom Poem

Posted on by mothertherealist

Stinky socks and bathroom floors;
Gobs of green on walls and doors;

Messy hands and messy faces;
Random fights and random races;

‘Tempts to crush you in their hugs;
Burps and farts and gifts of bugs;

Yelling after throwing things…

Tugging heart and apron strings.

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Photo Credit: Image by Sasin Tipchai from Pixabay

 

©2019 Chelsea Owens

17 thoughts on “The Boy Mom Poem”

  1. Here’s my off the cuff take/addition:

    Then to my ear’s horror, I heard a crash. A fresh yellow tennis ball from the can.
    Hurled itself through my front parlor window
    And is now floating in my bowl of hot gumbo.
    A tumult of footsteps echoes across
    As I stand up and rub at my jaws
    There are my boys, staring through the window at me
    Wondering how fast I can chase them with gumbo on my knees.

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  4. This makes me so glad my son is a strange finicky one. At least for now. He’s only 5. Well, he likes a messy room, but the mess has to be just so. My daughter, though, should have been born a boy.

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      1. I’ll let you know if my daughter is worse than my son. Or maybe #5 will be a girl. Though my experience is that a girl after a boy tends to make the girl, ah, less ladylike.

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      2. 🙂 #5’s a pretty obvious boy. We have a relative with 7 girls stay with us when they vacation this way; so far, they seem better-behaved than our boys.

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