I don’t toss or turn in bed,
or even snore at all
I don’t wake you when I rise
but still, I don’t cook dinner
I tell you that I love you
once I see your eyes are open
I let you shower first,
but still, I don’t cook dinner
I clean the hairs in the sink,
put down the toilet seat,
place dirty clothes in the laundry
but still, I don’t cook dinner
I double-check the kids
make sure they’re all prepared
then hug them all goodbye
but still, I don’t cook dinner
I make your pot of coffee,
leave your keys where you can see,
let you leave the driveway first,
but still, I don’t cook dinner
I have your picture on my wall
that makes me smile every time
You love that diamond wedding ring
but still, I don’t cook dinner
I call you at your job
just to see how you’re doing
and let you know when I’ll be home
but still, I don’t cook dinner
I pick up our kids from school,
give all their friends rides home,
collect all the groceries,
but still, I don’t cook dinner
I tidy up our house
while their homework’s being done
Feed the fish, cat, dog, bird, snake, and tarantula,
but still, I don’t cook dinner
I let go of all my friends
that I talk to on AIM or MSN
Excited to hear you come in!
But still, I don’t cook dinner
I have the children wash their hands
as I set up the table
Also, I turn off the television,
but still, I don’t cook dinner
Everyone sits down to eat,
expecting a delightful treat
Suddenly you look at me and say,
“Hey, where’s the dinner?!”