Room in the Pushchair: Mum’s parody of Room on the Broom gives hilarious insight into mum guilt

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  • Claire from Life, Love and Dirty Dishes won our BISS November competition and in her guest blog writes a hilarious parody of popular children’s poem Room on the Broom (and you may notice a familiar feeling of mum guilt along the way…)

    The Mummy had a boy with a red car toy, and dry shampooed hair which she wore without care.
    How the boy squealed and how the mummy grinned, as she walked him in his pushchair through sun, rain and wind.
    But how the Mummy wailed and how the boy shouted ‘Oi’. When the wind blew so wildly, it blew out the toy.
    ‘Sh!t’ cried the Mummy, and they turned right around. They searched for the toy but no toy could be found.
    Then out of the bushes all covered in mess, there bounded a pig with the toy in her red dress.
    She dropped it carelessly, then started to say (as the Mummy gave the car to the boy to play),
    ‘My name is Peppa, Peppa Pig that’s me. Is there room in the pushchair for a pig like me?’
    ‘Yes!’ cried the Mummy, and the pig clambered on. The Mummy took the brake off and whoosh! They were gone.

    Avoiding the dog crap and the puddles they raced, the boy watched the pig and Mummy had five minutes grace.
    The mummy sighed with relief at her new baby sitter, but away blew her bag, like a stray piece of litter!
    ‘Bo!!ocks!’ cried the Mummy, and they turned right around. They searched for the bag but no bag could be found.
    Then out from a restaurant with arches so golden, came a chicken nugget and the bag he was holdin’.
    He smiled quite smugly and showed off his free tat, then said (as the mummy took back her bag filled with crap)
    ‘I am a Happy Meal, happy as can be. Is there room in the pushchair for a meal like me?’
    ‘Yes!’ cried the Mummy, and the nugget clambered on. The Mummy took the brake off and whoosh! They were gone.

    Over the pot holes and bumps they went further. The boy ate his fries without so much of a murmur.
    The Mummy was thrilled that no food was rejected. Then off flew her hat revealing hair much neglected.
    ‘Fudge!’ cried the Mummy, and they turned right around. They searched for the hat but no hat could be found.
    Then all of a sudden there appeared with a glow, her missing hat and a bottle of Prosecco.
    The Prosecco smiled and gave her a hug, as the Mummy held him close she wished for a mug.
    ‘You are mine, all for me. Is there room in the pushchair, there has to be?’
    ‘Yes!’ cried the Prosecco, as he carefully clambered on. The Mummy took the brake off and whoosh! They were gone.

    Over the kerbs and the pavements they shot, The Mummy jumped for joy and… The wheel fell off!
    As the pushchair grounded to an abrupt halt, the mummy sighed that it was all her fault.
    The Mummy’s head was covered by a dark cloud, and down came a troll who was ugly and loud.
    ‘My name is guilt and I’ll make you feel bad, whilst I judge every decision and feeling you’ve had’
    ‘No’ cried the Mummy, ‘please leave me alone, I get enough judgement when I look at my phone.’
    ‘Help!’ cried the Mummy, and she turned right around. She looked everywhere but no help could be found.
    The guilt pinned her drown and called her a bad mother, said she was far worse than any other.

    But just as the mummy began to feel like a failure, wearing converse arrived her sweet saviour.
    She was strangely familiar with bags under her eyes, she wore black leggings with snot on the thigh.
    Her arms were laden with bags full of shopping, including wine and chocolate in a 3 for 2 offering.
    She put her arm around the Mummy and said ‘It’s Okay. Don’t worry honey, it’s just a bad day.
    We all have days when the food is beige, and we sometimes shout because of shoe rage.
    I see a boy that’s smiling and happy, and who gives a damn that he still wears a nappy?’
    The troll drew back and he started to shake. I’m sorry!’ he spluttered. ‘This guilt is a mistake.
    I know every day you try your best, and my nagging voice never gives you any rest.
    You took on this job without any training, and your choices don’t need justifying or explaining.’

    ‘Goodbye guilt’ the Mummy said and planted a big kiss on the boy’s head.
    ‘Parenting had enough worry and strife, without guilt being a part of your life, As for a bit of screen time, I can think of far worse crimes.’
    The mummy grabbed a tissue and dried her eyes and smiled at the pig who had stopped the boy’s cries.
    There’s room in the pushchair for fun and laughter, there’s room for nuggets and pigs and something for Mummy after.
    She hugged and thanked her new-found friend and the wheel on the pushchair she did mend.
    ‘I am Mummy, hear me roar, now let’s get home there’s Prosecco to pour.

    Claire was selected as a BISS guest blogger after entering our November linky. For your chance to write for GoodtoKnow, check out our Because I Said So platform.