And it was the weekend,
You'd sit and endure football whilst sat on Dad's knee.
He'd be watching intently,
Praying for goals,
You'd be looking for mischief,
Moving your head, mirroring his movements,
so he couldn't see.
He'd get so stressed that the vein on his forehead would buldge out (a sign that we loved to pick up on as we got older).
He couldn't shout at you though,
You were just too cute and cheeky!
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