Music & Lyrics: Marie-Lynn Hammond

he won’t go to bed for you, but he does for me
she’s never been a sleepy head for you, but she always was for me
they get mad and scream at you, then beam in my direction
so I lead them off like little lambs while you smart at their defection

he won’t say thanks or please for you, but he will for me
she won’t eat her peas for you, but she’ll eat swill for me
now do you wonder why I have such charm and power
to get them doing all the things you can’t
am I some cross between Raffi, and Muammar Qaddafi?
No, it’s simple—you’re the mummy, I’m the aunt

they think my house is prettier
my chesterfield is cozier
my foolish jokes are wittier
my roses they look rosier
my Oreos taste better
and of course my water’s wetter
and the toys you bought that seem to bore them silly
when transplanted over to my house suddenly enchant
am I some cross between Raffi and Muammar Qaddafi?
No it’s simple, you’re the mummy, I’m the aunt

he won’t take a bath for you but he’ll scrub his hide for me
she won’t do her math for you but she’ll divide for me
Still, when disasters happen like a bee sting or a bad dream
and the tears won’t stop for anything not hugs or even ice cream
then a little voice will say
“I want my mummy right away”
because a mother can do special things a mother’s sister can’t
it’s simple—you’re the mum, I’m just the aunt

and though my water may be wetter
only mum can kiss things better
it’s simple—you’re the mum, I’m just the aunt
yes it’s simple—you’re the mum, I’m just the aunt
it’s simple—you’re the mummy, I’m the aunt!