Undisciplined and un-enlisted, is the way my life persisted
As I tried to make a killing with my pen
But there is nothing quite as scary, as this quasi-military
Called ‘fatherhood’, that I’m now a soldier in

A 10 mile run before daylight, would be a most welcome respite
From 2am feedings and those diapers sent from Hell
What has now become quite clear, I’m the Drill Sergeant my kids fear
With Iron Hands, a Freezing Glare and Bull-Horn Yell

No jungle maneuver or Battle drill, can quite match up to the thrill
Of taking my troop out on the weekly shopping trip
In tight formation I have them file, there could be an ambush in any aisle
To twist young minds in a hypnotic, destructive grip

Its only when we’ve nearly crossed this jungle, I see that fate has tossed
Into our path a foe that’s hard to beat
The aisle of Leggs Sheer Pantyhose turns into Barbies and G.I. Joes
To run this gauntlet will take a Herculean feat

To save my team I’ll have one try, in desperation I loudly cry
“Gummy bears for the first one to the check-out stand!”
They were blinded by their greed and in an orderly stampede
Lined up anxiously with wagging tongues and open hands

My quick thinking was a success, but had it failed I’d hate to guess
At the carnage this aisle’s madness can invoke
‘Toy Feeding Frenzy’ is like a storm, a Texas twister in a child’s form
Once unleashed it leaves most parents dead and broke

Through constant training my Squad has been, finely tuned and disciplined
But sometimes I train them with Guerilla Warfare
I’m stealthy of foot and sharp of sight, a wraith-like creature of the night
When they least expect it I appear out of thin air

With a sixth-sense I read their minds, or seem in two places at one time
Commanding respect by the fear that I instill
My reward is if they learn, to survive and into leaders turn
Becoming Sergeants with their own Squadrons to drill