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Mother, O' Mother, come shake out your cloth, Empty the dustpan, poison the moth. Hang out the washing, make up the bed, Sew on a button and butter the bread. Where is the mother whose house is so shocking? She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking. Oh, I've grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue, Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo. Dishes are waiting and bills are past due, Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek - peekaboo. The shopping's not done and there's nothing for stew, And out in the yard there's a hullabaloo. But I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo. Look! Aren't his eyes the most wonderful hue? Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo. The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow, But children grow up, as I've learned to my sorrow. So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep! I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep. ~ Ruth Hulbert Hamilton Make Up, Go To Sleep, Butter, Peace Parents, Buttons, Little Boys Blue, House, Baby, Poem
Love the quote, not crazy about the font. Looks awesome with a yellow room (pooh and honey colored)
Sweet. Another pinner wrote the following comment, a change I'd also support: "I like this but I would ammend the beginning to 'This is the part of your sweet little story where your pages meet mine...' Validate their life and relationships before they met you.
Said the little boy, Sometimes I drop my spoon. Said the little old man, I do that too. The little boy whispered, I wet my pants. I do too, laughed the old man. Said the little boy, I often cry. The old man nodded. So do I. But worst of all, said the boy, it seems Grown-ups don't pay attention to me. And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand. I know what you mean, said the little old man. Written by Shel Silverstein : The Little Boy and Old Man
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