#25 - The Morning Routine

"And now, our (optional) prompt. I already asked you to write a sea chanty. Today, let’s try another musical form — the ballad. Traditionally, ballads were rhymed poems that told a story of some kind, and were often set to music. They were sometimes set in four-line verses, with an ABAB rhyme pattern, employing alternating 8 and 6 syllable, iambic lines. This 8/6 iambic pattern is sometimes referred to as ballad meter. The use of this type of pattern was not universal, however, and old ballads often involve different syllable counts, as well as refrains that break up the verses. "

She gets up at the crack of dawn,

At least it feels that way,

Nurses the voracious one,

Begging sleep come her way.

Nay, babe's up, and ready to play,

It's time to start the day!

She slips out of bed, babe in arms,

No one else woken up,

Change a diaper, enjoy babe's charms,

Belch! She's covered with spit up.

Aye, she's dripping in milky spray,

It's time to start the day!

The six year old pads out, blinking,

“Can I play before school?”

Maybe. It's early, she's thinking,

So she breaks their usual rule.

 

 

Aye, computer on, she let's him play,

It's time to start the day!

 

She smells like barf, a quick shower,

She hands the babe to Dad,

In and out, shined and scoured,

But her son's day has just turned bad.

Nay, computer froze, it won't play,

It's time to start the day!

He bursts in to deafening wails,

“You said my turn to take!”

His bonus computer time fails,

Now everyone's awake!

Aye, thanks to Connor's obnoxious bray,

It's time start our day.

 

“Don't comb through my hair!” Screeches one,

“I hate jeans,” says another,

“Where's my socks?” Look for them,

What am I, your mother?

Everyone's finally dressed, Oy Vey!

Time to start the day.

The babe is crying “pick me up!”

As toast goes on the plate,

Put toys down Connor, do eat up!

We're going to be late!

 

 

Aargh, we're not going to make it today,

Time to start the day!

Babe on hip, needing love from someone,

She struggles with one hand,

To quickly get school lunches done,

If you made them at night, it'd be grand (dumbass!)

Well, I guess we'll go with PB and J...

It's time to start the day.

Your nose is bleeding, go wipe it now,

No, no, not with your shirt!

You still need to wipe it, do you not know how?

Here, I'll do it. “Ow, that hurts!

Ugh... filthy, slimey little vertebrae...

Time to start the day.

Hurry up and finish eating,

We're running low on time,

Put the toys away, she's pleading,

As baby screams in her ear  

(I know, that doesn't rhyme!)

  

(Insert a lapse into free-verse here)

  

Connor, time to go and brush your teeth,

Where's my toothbrush? 

On the counter.

Where on the counter.

Right in front of your nose. You know, the one that's still bleeding.

Put that toy down, brush your teeth...

BRUSH YOUR TEETH!

If you don't brush your teeth I'm going to brush them for you!

Okay!

 

And here comes tantrum number four,

She's made everyone's day. Great!

The eight year old falls to the floor,

Mad that he's going to be late.

 

 

Oh c'mon, why are you crying now?

Time to start the freakin' day!

Okay, boots and jackets.

Connor, put your coat on.

Where's my coat.

Where did you leave it last night?

The closet.

Check the closet.

I don't see it. Where's my coat.

In the closet.

Where.

RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOUR NOSE!

 

 

(The one that is still bleeding!)

 

 

Oh. There it is.

 

 

They arrive at school, the bell has rung,

They're just a wee bit late,

You'll still be on time if you run!

So Connor walks at a snail's gait.

 

Now everyone's crabby  and grey,

Way to start their day!

 

 

Today was not atypical,

Although this morning sucked,

Can't get to school before the bell,

When I go back to work I'm....

... in big trouble!