Venting

Apology Consider Distant

for 3WW February 27, 2008
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I chase Kylie
around the house,
play with stickers,
draw pictures, color,
read a Maisy book
and more Maisy
and you ask what’s
for lunch. I give
you a couple choices
to consider
and you decide
on a chicken sandwich.

You are in your recliner
watching a fishing show.
I pull the meat from the bones,
toast the bread,
and make the sandwich.

When I hand it to you,
You say, “No pickles?”
so, I get them
and then you want chocolate milk.
I get a glass, open the fridge,
pour the milk,
squeeze the Hershey’s
in, get a spoon, and stir.

Handing it to you, a little spills
and I offer an apology,
“Sorry ‘bout that.”

Walking away, I add
in my head, Asshole!

Okay, I know it’s your
birthday but, enough already!

Later, when Kylie’s napping
you wonder why I seem
so distant.

I just shake my head
and pick up the crayons,
books, papers, dolls,
Play Dough, necklaces,
your socks,
your magazines,
your wounded ego.