It's time to pick up all my toys and put my dolls away,
Return my soldiers to their box to fight another day.
The coloring books and crayons are scattered all around,
My favorite wooden Tinker Toys are littering the ground.
The finger paints and Play-Doh will all have to be put back,
And the Lincoln Logs should be arranged neatly in a stack.
Chinese checkers, dominoes and the Monopoly board,
Shouldn't be left laying about, I've got to get them stored.
Nintendo cartridges are stacked up high against the wall,
Held in place by the Etch-a-Sketch and my new basketball.
My whoopee cushion belongs in the chest beside the bed,
With the plastic doo-doo and my genuine shrunken head.
Everyone is waiting, I guess I'll have to get it done,
I don't really want to do this, it's certainly no fun,
But I suppose they're right, I've got to put my toys away,
And get ready for my party, I'm 53 today.

At first, a tentative rustling noise was all that I could hear,
Then raspy breathing that ended in a short snort reached my ear.
Disturbed by a winter's dream or a shadow I could not see.
Something big was stirring and I knew it boded ill for me.
Guttural grunts, scratching, snuffling, then an explosion of air
Preceded heavy footsteps and the noise of a creaking stair.
I could hear his forceful breath as the behemoth neared my door,
There was no haven for me, I had lived this moment before.

Lost in that half-world between wake and sleep, my mind seized with dread,
Unable to command my body as my limbs filled with lead.
Deeper I burrowed in the darkness and safety of my bed,
Hiding from the great leviathan slavering to be fed.
I cowered beneath the warm covers, squeezing my eyes shut tight,
Mutely accepting my fate, for it was now too late for flight.
With fearful anticipation of what surely was to be,
I asked my hungry husband, "So, do you want two eggs or three?".

I try so hard to be everything to everyone,
I swear to God it's the toughest thing I've ever done.
It seems as if everyone I know wants a piece of me,
My energy is flagging, won't you please just let me be.
I'm afraid of what's happening, I can't help but fear,
When all my pieces are gone, I'll simply disappear.
They clamor, "Clean this, cook this", it's all I ever hear.
They yammer, "You don't mind doing this, do you, my dear?".
There is no time to be creative or to explore,
No matter how much I do, they only ask for more.
I'm grandmother, businesswoman, mother, friend and wife,
When will it finally be my turn to get a life?
I want to look into life's mysteries and try to find
The imagination that's lain fallow in my mind.
Oh, it's not really so bad, this demanding life of mine,
I feel much better now that I've taken the time to whine.