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Play Date 

He hogs all my toys

and he rushes around. 

He stamps with his feet

and he spits on the ground.

 

He’s scatty and tatty

and slathered with snot.

He says he’s the boss

though I tell him he’s not.

 

We sit in the sandpit:

I’m covered in sand. 

He snatches the ice cream

straight out of my hand.

 

He jumps off the sofa

and teases the cat. 

He bites and he burps 

and behaves like a brat.

 

I’ve never met someone

with manners as poor – 

I don’t think I’ll play

with my dad anymore.

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