For quite some time you've been a sleeper fine,
With nighttime habits that were just divine.
You slept at eight or nine or even ten,
And for twelve hours never rose again.
But now your teeth are jutting through your gums,
And some would say, "Just dose him up with rum!"
And some would say, "Just let him cry it out!"
Nope...we don't like to listen to you shout.
So here we are, with monitor in hand,
Next door to your obscure crib-bound demands.
We wish for all our sakes that you'll soon be
A fully toothed five-month-old, and pain-free.
And if it just so happens that you're not:
I'll be in the guest bedroom on the cot.