Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Pounding on my high chair

Image credit

Though tired after vacation and
wanting to hide out and recharge,
we have guests instead.
"Come to supper at our house,"
says the husband, who then goes off
to work for twelve hours.
Guess who's making dinner?
Some salad makings in the fridge.
Little inspiration to make a meal
in the pantry.
No motivation to cook or clean
at all.
Simmering resentment, muttering
threats and imprecations,
rummaging through freezer
and cookbooks.
The Kid comes to the rescue
with a quick trip to the store
for greens.
Steaks marinate for the grill, 
stashed homemade apple pie warms,
greens chopped and mixed,
store bought potato salad is 
doctored to taste and look homemade.
An excellent meal is rigorously
birthed, casually enjoyed by all.
It looks like I worked hard
but I didn't. So there!
Posted for Poetic Asides #146, "Everything is against you", 8/24/11)

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