The Battered Kids by Thomas E. Sobon
When I was just a little boy
And mommy baked a cake
My sis and I would jump for joy
We knew what was at stake
My mom would get the oven hot
And with a measure cup
She'd measure stuff into a pot
Then mix the stuff all up
She'd pour the batter into pans
But leave some in the pot
My sis and I would clap our hands
We knew what could be got
With spoons we'd scrape the pot all clean
And feed ourselves the batter
Sometimes our faces got obscene
But that didn't really matter
Mom said her angels looked divine
And told us how she'd miss us
We knew that she would not malign
And liked the way she'd kiss us
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