Silently hoping it could last forever.
We had a good three-year run you and I.
But now you’re almost ready to let go, say goodbye.
You’re not dependable, you’re volatile, you come and you go.
When you’re here you bring with you a night-time gong show.
When you stay away the crazy comes way too early.
Leaving us all tired, frustrated and surly.
But how will I cope when you’re no longer here?
Relying only on caffeine, wine and beer.
You refreshed and revived me, helped me not lose my shit.
During the inevitable daily four o’clock fit.
You gave me time to cook and to clean, I mean watch bad TV.
You let me sit on the couch with no one but me.
You protected me from her little wrath.
That could break every crayon, spill all milk in its path.
I’ll miss our quiet moments, our secret affair.
Checking the clock at noon knowing you’d soon be there.
But it’s time to move on, to face all my fears.
Deep down I know I’ll have to take you back in 12 years.
So farewell to you my three-year-old’s nap.
Hello “quiet time” I hope you’re not full of crap.