Cousins

     The Cousins

I'm locking my closet
And hiding my toys.
The cousins are coming,
They're two little boys

Who'll drag out things
I'd forgotten I had,
And when I get angry
They'll run tell my dad

That I won't let them
Play with my things;
Can you imagine
The trouble that brings?

My dad comes stomping
Right up the stairs.
The back of my neck
Gets prickly hairs.

"What's this I hear?
You're not willing to share?"
And then he gives me
That long, cold stare.

My cousin just grins;
He thinks it's so funny.
Then dad pats his head and says
"It's alright now, honey."

So I'm left to play
With the horrible brat,
Who breaks all my toys
And squeezes my cat.

My toys are askew
And my room is a sight,
And then Aunt Ginny yells,
"Tell your cousins good-night."

"What?  You're leaving?
Huh-uh!  No way!
Not until you help
Put all my toys away!"

But next thing I know
They've donned their coats
And thrown their mufflers
Around their throats

Climbed in their car
And driven away.
I think to myself
I hope they'll stay

Away until
Their kids are full grown
Or at least next time,
Bring toys of their own.