There are days when you grow weary, when your back will hold no more
When your eyes grow sad and teary, and you run for the back door,
Your dreams of sleeping in are crushed. The coffee’s running out,
The oatmeal on the wall is mushed, you’ve lost the strength to pout.
When you fill the cart at Walmart, with things they should never eat,
You wish you were inside that cart, so you could rest your feet,
When day is done and dishes call; your patience has been spent.
You were a child once after all; to your mother please repent