If I could itch on your behalf
And take away the pain,
And steal your fever for myself,
I would; Dad feels the same.
We hate to see you poorly,
And we wish that you were well,
The sadness in your tired eyes,
Makes mine and Dad’s hearts swell.
We try to make it better,
Cool your fever, run you baths,
Spray your pox with pricey medicines,
Distract you, make you laugh.
We cannot take the pain away,
We have see it through,
But our gorgeous, pox-y babies,
Please remember, we love you x