Dear Santa, here we go again,
It seems like I’m in trouble.
I ate the fish food in the tub
And burst my Christmas bubble.
She says you’ll probably still come,
That one small slip won’t do it…
The problem is, I have this thing…
If I see food, I chew it.
I’ve only ever chewed one shoe,
When I was left alone.
And she just tutted, then dug out
A shoe to be my own.
I’m six years old now and that shoe
Is still there in my toys,
I have a sniff of it sometimes…
Reminds me of my boys.
I don’t chew anything of hers
(Apart from the odd tissue)
But any food she leaves in sight
Appears to be an issue.
She’s pretty good, as two-legs go,
She keeps me from temptation,
But when the fridge door fails to shut
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