A very busy week
My next door neighbour, Big Mo Spencer,
works part-time at the Metro Centre.
She wears a cap, and looks quite hard,
I think she’s called a security guard.
Although she’s tough, she can be nice,
and people ask her for advice,
like how to get to C&A,
and can they leave their car all day?
One busy day in hot July,
she saw a boy, come walking by,
not once, but more like fifteen times
and Mo picked up the warning signs.
She went across and asked the lad,
“What’s happened to your mam and dad?
… you can’t be here all on your own?”
The boy said, “I’m with Aunty Joan…
… or maybe, it was Uncle Ray..
..not sure who’s meant to have me today..”
“… On Sundays, I belong to Gran,
and sleep in a big white caravan.
Weekdays, I’m in nursery school,
till half past three, and that’s the rule!”
“After that, my mam’s the boss,
but Fridays, it’s my Uncle Ross
who keeps me, cause my mam works late,
at somewhere called The Jingling Gate.”
“On Thursdays, next door neighbour Kath,
lets us use her big posh bath,
but when it gets to eight o’clock,
her boyfriend comes, so we push off.”
“..And then we wait a while at home,
until it’s time for Aunty Joan
to take us to the burger bar
in her big old rusty car.”
“..I have to be in many places,
I can’t always put names to faces,
so I’d be very grateful, Miss,
just tell me please, what day is this?”
We grown-ups moan about our busy lives all the time, but we rarely think what we put our kids through as well.