Little girl, I love you so,
But you’re a crawling tornado.
You’re cute – it’s true – but underneath,
You have the mind of a devious thief.
I found my brush in the soup pot.
You put it there, you sneaky tot.
What is the appeal of the commode?
And why must you destroy our abode?
You are my sweet little daughter
Who tossed her paci in cold toilet water.
You were filled with joy and elation
Whilst gnawing our wedding invitation.
You’ve made our couch your teething ring
And you demand that I constantly sing.
You are but mere flesh and bones
But I cannot leave you alone.
For if I did for just a sec
You’d find a way to raise heck.
I put you in the cutest clothes
Onto which you blow your nose.
But I forgive you. See? It’s alright
Because at least you sleep through the night.