The sound of my alarm clock wakes me.
I slowly get up and sit on the side of my bed.
My wife brought me my paper and coffee.
As I yawn and rub my bald head.

I stand up and rush to the bathroom.
With my paper, under my arm, in tow,
But just as I am coming out of the bedroom.
My daughter closes the bathroom door.

So I grab myself and cock my knees.
I make a run for bathroom number two.
Just as I am coming down the stairs.
My darling wife closes that door, too.

I am amazed by what just happened.
I head for the backdoor to hunt for a place to let go.
'Damn,’ I shouted aloud, ‘I hope I can hold out,’
‘That was number two and there is just one more.’

Through the kitchen and out the backdoor
To the garage, as fast as I could, I ran.
I open the garage door expecting to let go.
I have been holding this as long as I can.

Just as I enter the garage and turn on the light,
My heart sinks because all my plans are undone.
I hear the bathroom door loudly slam shut.
I just got beat there by my own son.

‘Damn’, I say to myself, ‘I wish we only had one kid.’
All right, I know where there is one more.
Across the street, I hurriedly went.
To use the bathroom at the convenience store.