Our grandkids have a dollhouse,
A gift we did provide,
With furniture and little folk
To fill the rooms inside.
It's used a lot, quite lovingly,
Yet every time we come,
It all looks topsy-turvy,
Which defies my rule of thumb.
I take five minutes worth of time
To neaten up the place,
A task the long-lost child in me
Does readily embrace.
And once I'm done, I let it go;
My set-ups they may spurn,
But even if they mess them up,
At least I've had my turn!
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