I’m orbiting my husband like a planet, round and round all day, Yapping in his ear ‘bout stuff he don’t care to say. Our son’s diaper’s heavy, yeah, it’s flooding on the floor, While my head’s fit to explode—I can’t take much more. Got a brain aneurism, baby, but hey, that’s kinda cool, Triglycerides so high, doc says I’m breaking all the rules. Cooking, cleaning, losing it, still holding on somehow, In this orbit of chaos, love’s what keeps me grounded now.