I make a cup of coffee, and I bathe in its perfume
And add some chocolate cookies til my diet must resume
I pray the photographer doesn't see i’ve gone food rogue
Cuz like he said, "Chubby chicks won’t grace the cover of Vogue."

I'm careful since my Chanel gown is white and never sold
In the stores where I can shop, or any shop, I am told
And very soon they'll call me back to set to vamp and pose
Hair perfectly coiffed, make-up en fleek, Louboutin on toes!

"I've chipped a nail," I mumble and three stylists all jump
And while they're at it one applies some hairspray with a pump
A gorgeous man in best black tie approaches me and grins
"I am your partner for this shoot. Cheri, you are so THIN!"

He takes my hand and helps me up, I teeter on the heels
He holds me close and says he needs to take me for some meals.
He bends his face and parts his perfect lips to plant a kiss
But I feel liquid spilling and I wonder "What is this?"

Loud noises filter in my brain and break my daydream's hold
The liquid was my coffee spilled and sickeningly cold
I grab a paper towel to wipe it off my kitchen floor
But being nine months pregnant makes it hard to do, for sure.

I walk into the boys' room and all three reach out to me
The hugs and kisses given no French model could exceed
I love my boys and my life, even in a cheap stretch jean
But still and all, I did enjoy my lovely little daydream!

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