Fruit Flies

Fruit flies, fruit flies everywhere
I find you flying past my hair
On the door, the sill, the sash
You’re driving me insane
Where did you come from?
I don’t have any fruit
No one here eats healthily
What are you doing in my toilet?
Or the walls of the bathroom?
Or in the shower?
There’s no food in there.
Did you and a gazillion relatives decide to move in?
You’re on the windows of the car
Do you follow me?
What can you possibly want?
Die already.

Ode to the Broken Moon

Oh, moon, hanging so willy-nilly in the October sky,
You are broken.
You’re not all there
Part of you is bare
Who took such a large chunk out of your side?
Did you bump into the sun?
You must be more careful
And watch where you’re going
I certainly hope
For the sake of my son
That your side grows back
Because I promised
I would have you fixed
In a few days.

CPR

We had CPR training at school last week, and I had to be there because my certification expired. The new dolls work very nicely, but upon receiving my infant, I promptly, yet accidentally, decapitated it. At that point, I decided CPR would not help, as the child had obviously asphyxiated on a plastic bag and had a severed head. Saved some money on the autopsy. It was a good time, nonetheless, as I can never get enough of shaking a dummy and yelling, “Are you okay? Do you need help?” Do we really expect the infant to reply? You’ll be happy to know, however, that once I re-attached my infant’s head, I did an excellent job.

These Words Came Out of My Mouth

More things I never thought I’d say. Some come from school, others from home:

I don’t know why your hand keeps falling off.
No swinging from the curtains.
No hanging out by the potty.
Yes, at night I’m a spy. As a matter of fact, that’s what I’ll be for Halloween, but I won’t even have to dress up because I’m that good at it.
You have a bad case of blurt.
Grammar won’t kill you. Not even a comma splice, as dangerous as it sounds.
At least I will never have to call your family to tell them we lost you during surgery.
Please do not squirt your friends with bleach.
I am sure your teacher did not bite you.
You run in place very nicely, just like Shaggy and Scooby.
Yes, I am Daphne, and yes, you can have a Scooby Snack.
I can’t fit through the door.
You simply cannot mix granola with Cinnamon Toast Crunch. It’s against the rules.
There is no need for boots. We will not be walking on water.
Sorry, I forgot about the dog poop.
If you’re happy and you know it, sit down and be quiet.