Cheekies Is Interfering With Writing

Cheekies is having a couple of those days.  She is cranky and crying.  Nothing seems exciting to her, except Mama coming up with sing-song “poems.”
My poetry skills are horrible, especially without sleep.  Here’s a very pathetic example:
Baby, baby, baby.
Baby, that’s me!
Or this one:
I’m a little baby
I’m not short
And I’m not stout.
I don’t get all steamed up
But I can shout
You can’t tip me over
And pour me out.
See what I mean?  Children’s poems and stories will never be my genre.  Luckily, that isn’t what I want to write.
I am hoping today is better so I can write something more adultlike.

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