Ye Old Nervous Break Down

O.k. So it hasn't been a stellar week; however, since I've been reassured from multiple sources that this kind of occurrence is nothing to be embarrassed about, please bear with me as I use my next couple of blog entries to deal with life in my own special way--i.e. turning it all into something laughable. After all, laughter is rumored to be the best medicine. Hence, in the tradition of an old classic, let us proceed.

This is the sun that rose before six
On the day of my nervous breakdown.

These are the children, roused by the sun,
That rose before six
On the day of my nervous breakdown.

These are the diapers, soiled by the children,
Roused by the sun, that rose before six,
On the day of my nervous breakdown.

This is my coffee, spilled after the diapers
Were soiled by the children, roused by the sun,
That rose before six, on the day of my nervous breakdown.

These are the parents, who come in a crowd
whose checks buy the coffee, spilled by the children,
Roused by the sun, that rose before six,
On the day of my nervous breakdown.

These are the children, all noisy and loud,
Loved by the parents, who come in a crowd,
Whose checks buy the coffee, spilled by the children
Roused by the sun, that rose before six
On the day of my nervous breakdown.

These are the toy boxes, greatly endowed,
Unloaded by children, all noisy and loud,
And Lysoled for parents, who come in a crowd,
Whose checks buy the coffee, spilled by the children
Roused by the sun, that rose before six
On the day of my nervous breakdown.

This is the dad, who says what's not allowed
When it comes to the toys boxes, greatly endowed,
Now dumped by the children, all noisy and loud,
Loved by the parents who come in a crowd,
Whose checks buy the coffee, spilled by the children,
Roused by the sun, that rose before six
On the day of my nervous breakdown.

This is the crawler, who through toys has plowed
To send her own e-mail--now that's NOT allowed--
And the children near toy boxes greatly endowed,
All tattle in voices, quite noisy and loud
To me, who is wishing for parents in crowds,
Whose checks buy the coffee, spilled by the children,
Roused by the sun, that rose before six
On the day of my nervous breakdown.

This is the luncheon for six that is served
To the toddlers who through all three courses have plowed
And started the food fight that can't be allowed
Among all these children with plates so endowed
Who clammer out prayers all so blessed and so loud
For the safety of parents now out in the crowds,
Whose checks buy the coffee, spilled by the children,
Roused by the sun, that rose before six,
On the day of my nervous breakdown.

This is the rest-time for my lunch reserved
While the children with sweet dreams from heaven are served
But first through the mess left behind I have plowed
And hope for the best with the time I'm allowed
And finally settle with my plate endowed
While listening for dreamers snoring too loud--
They just won't believe it!--that far away crowd,
Whose checks buy the coffee, spilled by the children,
Roused by the sun, that rose before six,
On the day of my nervous breakdown.

This is the baby untimely unnerved
Who cuts short the lunch time so daftly reserved
And wakes all the others who cry to be served.
When I through the next round of diapers have plowed
I swallow Excedrin as I am allowed,
And pray for more patience than I've been endowed
While juggling children, all noisy and loud,
Quite glad that their parents will come in a crowd,
With checks that buy coffee, that the children will spill,
When they're roused by the sun, schlepping up before six,
on THIS. WHICH COULD BE. THE DAY OF MY NERVOUS BREAKDOWN!!!

This is the chest pain that takes all my verve--
I can't hold a baby now, I'm so unnerved
And the all-screaming masses now wait to be served
While daddy through stopped intersections has plowed
As my doctor says waiting just can't be allowed
Lest my term-life insurance should soon be endowed
To the father of two, so noisy and loud,
And the rest will be out in the cold with the crowd,
Whose checks bought the coffee, that was spilled by the children,
Roused by the the sun, that rose before six,
On Tuesday, the day of my nervous breakdown.

You see what I mean?! Next week HAS to be better! I just hope a nervous breakdown looks good on the scale!