Murphy’s Lament

Mom, why are you bleeping?
Can’t you see I’m sleeping?

I don’t need to pee outdoors.
I already did, over on the floor.

Is it time for me to eat?
If not, I’m going back to my seat.

I don’t like the lady with the scoop.
She harvests all the tasty poop.

You’re putting drops in my eyes?
Where is my tasty cookie prize?

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