The stakes are much higher, consequences more real
The lava’s not lava, it's Lego instead
You tiptoe around the gaps filled with pure dread
You love that they love the gift your eardrums do not
Why is the loudest thing “The best thing they got”?
You smile with delight as they call out with glee,
Look what I figured out, look at this, look at me!
And you love it, its awesome, it's money well spent.
It could be a saxophone, could be a tent.
More likely a drumkit your ears now have a whine
You smile with affection and wait for bed time.
It's not that you hate it - it's a real Christmas truth
That all the excitement must be under one roof
One room filled with chaos and noise, what a din
You're still smiling kindly as you reach for the Gin
You love that they love it - It's the best gift of all
You might want some earplugs, bang your head on the wall.
It's not that you hate it but capacity hits
Your eardrums are sobbing, your brain has the sh**s
Christmas is gorgeous, the frustration is real
But all of the memories, the sharing the meal
They'll remember the laughter, the noise and the play,
More than the present itself on the day.
The chaos, the noise that special "thank f***"
when they're finally sleeping and you can rest with your book.
You love that they love it, that thing that's not clothes
It's never the book or the socks with the toes
It's always the noisy or chaotic thing
the one that you feel bad for not liking much
The gift that makes your ears develop a ring
It's never the rabbit in the shiny new hutch
It's the thing that’s the loudest, that shouldn't be indoors
The thing that makes obstacle courses from floors
The more inconvenient, the more joy it brings
The wider the smile the louder they sing
You're seeing in stereo, tasting the noise.
You’re wrangling the dinner while they play with the toys
And though it's too much - way too much, here's the thing
Enthusiasm is not the same as "I can sing!"
They might be the worst or they could be the best
The drum kit they love's now an unwelcome guest
The glittery slime hits the floor with a "Floop"
The games music goes round till your brain's turned to soup
It's drilled into memories, deep in your brain,
The loop has no ending, no mercy, no shame.
You're starting to see sounds, taste colours, we fear,
The noise makes your brain leak right out of your ear
But what they’ll remember, less the thing, more the vibes
They won't see the overwhelm, just the surprise
The absolute joy, the glee they just cannot say
Of whatever they woke to on THIS Christmas day.
They won't remember batteries, wrapping or bows
They'll remember the feeling that somebody knows.
You know it's a lot, and you wouldn't change a thing
You're glad that you bought it, less glad your ears ring
You're seeing the sounds now, you're tasting the light.
Purple is chocolatey, somehow it's right.
This is what you'll remember years far from today
The noise and the grins and the joy and the play.
You just bought the soundtrack for six months ahead.
The small ones are yawning 5 minutes 'til bed.
I chose every part of this, one cart at a time,
I don't know my own surname, it's shocking this rhymes,
Entirely preventable - why would I do that?
Their joy is the point... it's my joy...
(Where's the cat?)
You get to be glad of the rest for your ears.
You get to enjoy the cold glass of beer.
You get to love every bit of madness, every beep
You also get to be very relieved that ... they're asleep
(Awww. Look at them.)