The annoying life.

I’m tired,
I’m tired,
I’m tired,
I am.
All of these things are making me mad.
If it’s not the clothes, it’s the phones.
And when the phones are good,
it’s the ice-cream cones.
Once all of the cones are alright,
tin-cans fight.
Ohh, what do I do with my life.

I hired an assistant to look after the milk.
And I’ve got my daughter guarding the books.
My husband is looking at the clothes,
while I go to the tissues,
because of my nose.

I still sit here,
hoping for a customer,
wishing for a customer,
but nothing happens.
I start to get up,
the doorbell rings,
I know it’s just my son,
but it isn’t.
My first customer walks inside.