Johanna. The First.

On April 30th in twenty nineteen
There came to St Galen its future queen.                            
Let me introduce myself, I’m Sant Johanna
And I hope this date is circled on your planner.

It’s my birthday, so I’m told
And I’m already one whole year old
Forget cute and cutest. I’m even cuter.
You couldn’t design a babe this good, even by computer.

After an arduous selection committee
I chose parents who are both smart and pretty
Because in my life ambition to go a long way
I recognise the importance of superior DNA.

They may both be teachers and I’m still at ‘goo-goo’
But I’m sure I will still teach them a thing or two
Like why some toys are losers and other toys are winners
Or why I soil more nappies than I’ve had hot dinners.

And as for my grandparents, by the time I am six
They’ll have watched more films of me than Netflix.
I may not have mastered algebra yet, or adjective declension
But boy, am I good at being centre of attention!

Although my base is Switzerland, where I’m now residential
Who knows where and how I’ll realise my potential
If hereditary skills are a reliable indication
I will be a dancing scientist with a flair for education.

In recent weeks, when I’m not cooing or snoring
I’ve noticed my parents have become a bit boring
They slouch round the house and watch all the news
Teach at home in the day and at night hit the booze.

I think I know the problem, (between you and me)
They’re stressing about what my present should be 
A diamond onesie? Chocolate cot? World cruise?
Who cares! My family’s the best present I could choose!
Can’t be with you all today, which makes me a grump
So you all owe me one Birthday bump.