You make my eyes roll when. . .
You floss your teeth using a cotton thread from your sock
You polish the kitchen floor and make me skid across the lino
You hoover, just as my favourite TV show starts
You elbow me by mistake because I’m “small” and got “under your feet”
You say I “hoard” when I claim to “collect”
You turn down my dinner for spam, from a tin
You ask me to sing in a lower key
You open my post, which I find in a draw a year later
You use my shampoo as bubble bath
You ask: “Have you brushed your hair today?” Just before I go out
And when you wipe snot on your sleeve. . .
It’s lucky though because I like to roll my eyes. . .
And I love you anyway because you kiss my forehead when you think I’m asleep.