Baby talk

Baby talk

Who’s a diddums widdums den
Sitting in his chair
With his chubby wubby facey wacey
And curly wurly hair

Who likes choccy woccy biccies
And spreads them round his face
Oh what a messy wessy child
He’s really a disgrace

They say he’s got his mother’s eyes
His father’s nose and chin
But he smells just like his grandpa
What a statey wate he’s in

Sometimes he’s naughty waughty
And pulls his mother’s hair
He tries to pull his grandpa’s
But there isn’t too much there

To try and make him eat his food
You must play a little game
“Open the pink tunnel
here comes the puffer train”

But if he doesn’t like it
He’ll spitty wit it on the floor
Then to prove his lungs are both OK
He’ll scream and shout for more

But at night he goes to sleepy byes
Up the wooden hill
Then his smiley wiley little face
Means he’s your angel still.

----OOOO----