On Saturday my wife gets up at six,
mere moments after our young daughter cries,
and makes pancakes from scratch (not from a mix)
while TV keeps the children hypnotized.
On Sundays I wake up while it's still gray
and do my best to entertain the mob;
I cook waffles, serve cereal, and play
until eight-thirty or nine--that's my job.
The weekends used to mean we could sleep in
and stay up late, no worries about rest;
we would go out and drink and dance, and when
we got home, we could sleep. It was the best.
When I was teenaged I would sleep till noon;
my children's teen years cannot come too soon.
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