It floods the denim grooves of my jeans,
Turning them all slippery;
Into a boy again,
But there's no comfort now;
No sent to bed to rest,
No pat on the head and a cuddle,
No Lucozade and waiter service,
Nu bucket and guilt-free sleep!
I look down at it,
I could have got it in the toilet,
But there is only room for one,
And he's an ass:
The lesser of two evils,
I shower with my clothes,
Held close but kept at a distance;
I shower by myself.
I treat myself:
A tall relaxed glass,
And climb into bed
Praying not to fart.