stuff only moms hear

Every single mom I know
Could write her own compelling book
Because it seems that each new day
Produces a new hook

When kids are small, they say things
That makes us laugh until we cry
One day, our youngest asked me
"Why does my penis have an eye?"

”There's pee and poo on my hand, ma!”
This, a line no mom wants to hear
Because she knows a poop hand means
That somewhere else, there's a brown smear

Kids sing and dance, they scream and shout
And often make up their own words
Destroy lyrics to classic songs
And could care less it sounds absurd

Moms listen to the stories
That their kids really want to tell
Things we'd rather be spared from
Such as how much their toot smells

We often hear that we’re unfair
How other moms would just say yes
We may be told we’re being cruel
Which likely means we're doing our best

Moms have to hear their children cry
Into pillows when life's not fair
We’ll rub their back and kiss their head
A soft reminder that we care

Moms hear all of the rubbish
But certainly the best stuff, too
Like, when kids say unprompted
"Mom, you're the best, and I love you!"