I stood in a kitchen
stared at a plate
filled with lemon squares
two inches from my hand
I walked away
it’s the second day of March
and the weather still sucks
no recourse but shower and heed my own ‘advice’
a bright pink shirt
accessories
makeup
‘what are you doing?’
the three point five year old asks
bewildered-ly
‘I’m trying to look pretty’
I clarify
‘do I?’
small, aesthetic arbiter
‘No’
he runs away
charming, like when his older brother
accused me of harboring an unborn child
in my belly
several weeks ago
no, darling, that’s three dozen cookies
hence the sugar strike
Facebook assures me a Chinook is coming
ergo it must be true
and I can stop writing bitter-pseudo-haiku
(that rhymed, t.a.n)
The shrimps don’t know what they are talking about! (I love your necklace, by the way!)
Monica….a friend for life….unlike my children