I'll start by posting a poem which was inspired by the trauma of having children who, as I'm sure you all know, can easily become ill, but equally easily bounce back from their illness very quickly. Leaving you wondering what just happened to your expected night of sleep.
Peerie bairns gettin ready fur bed,
Da maist distress ony hoose ever hed,
Dey tollie owre da toothpaste an even da pan,
Dir's naethin mair traan dan da offspring o man.
Dey race fur da stairs, wha'll be first,
Noo baith o dem's faain, wha's greetin da warst,
Cuddled an soothed an sent on dir wye,
Tucked in an lichts oot, dey'll sleep bye an bye.
Noo settlin doon fur a nicht at da fire,
Your hopes o paece gettin higher an higher,
Dan dir's a sprech fae da heid o da stair,
A heid or a gut or somethin is sair.
So you sit up aa nicht an tend ta dir pain,
Ony paeceful tochts ir right doon da drain,
Bit come da moarn whin you're worn til a crang,
Dey spang oot o bed laek naethin wis wrang.
So dey geng ta school, an you geng ta wark,
An you feel laek dir's lead i da tail o your sark,
Bit nichts laek yun just happen da wance,
You'll get paece da nicht, - Some Bloddy Chance.!!