Childminding

by | Aug 6, 2011 | Poetry | 0 comments

“Grandpa, Grandpa,”
She chuckled from the house.
Then she slammed the door
And I found myself locked out
Without a bloody key
And not knowing what to do;
Get somebody to call the police
Or wait outside for you.

She was less than two years old,
Alone, without a nappy.
She could crap upon the floor
And you would not be happy.
Worse, her mother could turn up,
Accuse me of neglect
And I’d be due for slaughter
By my daughter, I expect.

I heard the baby laugh in there,
What damage was she doing?
What objects was she breaking
And where had she been pooing?
“Grandpa, Grandpa,”
I heard the baby cry;
I could be done for cruelty
So I let the cops drive by.

Then you came back from shopping
And we both ran through the door.
We found the child was fast asleep
Upon the kitchen floor.
We told her not to tell her mum
And then mopped up her wee……….
And now I’ll never have her round
Unless I’ve got my key.

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