It’s rest time at preschool, but I’m wide awake,
My blanket’s all crumpled, and it’s more than I can take.
I fluff up my pillow, make it just so,
But something’s not perfect, I know, I know.
It’s rest time, making things neat,
Fixing my bed before I can sleep.
With every wrinkle and every fold,
Dreams of perfection start to unfold.
I straighten my blanket, smooth out the seams,
But then I see a crease, oh, how it gleams.
I pull and I tug, get everything tight,
I want it to be perfect, before I close my eyes tight.
It’s rest time, making things neat,
Fixing my bed before I can sleep.
With every wrinkle and every fold,
Dreams of perfection start to unfold.
I know it’s silly, but it’s my routine,
To have a bed that’s fit for a queen.
Fluffing the pillow, tucking the ends,
It’s my little ritual, as rest time descends.
Just when I think it's finally right,
I spot another wrinkle, oh, what a sight!
I straighten and smooth, but time slips away,
Rest time is over, I’ve missed it today.
It was rest time, making things neat,
I was just trying to sleep.
With every wrinkle and every fold,
Dreams of perfection start to unfold.
So when it’s rest time and you're ready to snooze,
Think of me, and my bed-making blues.
I missed my nap, but that's okay,
Tomorrow I'll try again, my own way.
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