Kids

Running, jumping,

Kicking, screaming.

The noise is pounding in my head

In an uneven beat

Like the drummer is stoned and dying from the heat.

Skipping, struggling,

Lying on the floor

Climbing, ripping, tearing

Please don’t eat that please!

My nerves are fraying

My back is aching

I think I might fall over from thirst.

I don’t dare stop to rest,

For fear of what might happen lest

I take my eyes off of you.

Why do I concern myself?

Why do I care?

Because I would feel terrible

If they fell down the stair.

They’re not my kids,

Not even close

So do I let them do this to me?

The House Cleaner

Heather’s knees clicked as she finally stood up, she had been on her knees for far too long as she polished the legs to the wooden furniture in the Willis’s house. In her eagerness to got off the floor, she stood up too quickly and got a head rush, or a freebee as her friend Cathy would say. Once the dots had faded she surveyed her work. The room was sparsely furnished, there were no pictures on the walls, and the mantelpiece was dedicated to the diplomas belonging to the master of the house. Heather knew that he had a wife and kids, but you wouldn’t know it looking at this room. It was too phony, too much like a picture in a magazine, even more so since she had just finished whipping away the dust that had gathered since she had cleaned it last week.
Heather gathered up all of her cleaning tools and placed them in their closet next to the laundry room. The brand new chrome washing machine and matching dryer sparkled without so much as a scratch or smudge on the surface. Heather knew from speaking with the housekeeper that neither of these machines was ever employed, since all of the Willis’s clothes were dry cleaned in town.
After she put all the cleaning items away, Heather used the backstairs up to the nursery where the nanny would be keeping an eye on the Willis kids and Heather’s check since the housekeeper was out.
Knocking discretely at the door Heather needed only to wait a few seconds before the disgruntled nanny stepped out of the room, check in hand; she did not invite Heather in, nor greet her in anyway. So Heather let her self-introduction awkwardly fade off as she took the check the nanny offered her before ducking her disheveled head back into the nursery in response to a loud thump and muffled yelp from within the nursery.
Heather checked the amount on the check, which was written out in perfect script with a fountain pen. She tromped down the stairs and out the backdoor as she exited the Stepford house she sighed with relief, some things were just too perfect to be true, she didn’t know what kind of a price Mr. Willis and his family had to pay everyday for their apparently perfect lives, but it had to be a dozy.

Daycare

Mike’s ears were ringing as he left the daycare where he worked. As a teen aged boy, he had gone to his share of rock concerts, and he’d thought the loud music was really bad, but it was nothing compared to the screams of the five to twelve year-olds at the center. The noise those little monkeys (as Mike called them when none of his co-workers were around) made was excruciating after half an hour, but staying for five hours like he had to was a new kind of hell.

  Then there was the fights, blood, pee, broken toys added to the mayhem. There was not one decent kid in the bunch. The new ones that started out okay always turned into one of the monkeys given enough time. It was as if the kids knew they were being abandoned by their parents and they were releasing all of their frustration on everything and everyone around them. Aaahh, the parents; they’re another case in and of themselves: rude, self-absorbed, inconsiderate monkeys in suits.


Monkeys, each and everyone, making more monkeys, then they all wonder why no one acts like a decent human being.

A Conversation Between Three Parents

Linda: How old are your children?
Jim: Thirty-five and thirty-three.
Martha: Nineteen, seventeen, and fifteen.
Linda: Ooh.
Martha: What?
Jim: Don’t worry, they’ll be gone soon.
M: Why should I worry?
J: Well, when my children were teenagers, my wife and I took every opportunity to be out of the house: golfing, fishing, hunting, women’s group for her and poker every Friday and Saturday night for me, and adult church supper every Sunday evening.
L: Yes, yes. I have a three year old and a five year old, so I know exactly what you mean by needing to get away.
J chuckling: I still remember all of those sleepless nights getting the baby to stop crying!
L: Tell me about it.
M: Well, that’s the deal with babies, they don’t understand how to wait; when they need something they need it now.
L: Yes, yes, but they’re so….needy.
J: That’s how they are, and it doesn’t ever stop. Even now my kids call me: “Benny broke his arm and I don’t think I can pay the bill.” Did you ever think of getting health insurance? He’s not my kid; it’s time you take responsibility.
M: Is Benny your…step-grandson?
J: No, he’s my grandson, why did you think-
L interrupting: Maybe they can’t afford insurance.
J: Oh they could if they thought ahead and saved.
There was a silence.
L: I can’t even fathom three teenagers.
M: It’s really not that bad-
J: Oh, you’re just more patient then the rest of us.
M: Perhaps.
L: I must say I’ve never seen three teens more well-behaved. How did you do that?
M: Love, care, coddling and being honest.
J scoffs.
L: Well, we all do that, but what’s your secret? What do you do to make them behave?
M: I don’t do anything. They learned basic manners when they were really young. Every once in awhile they need reminders, but we all do, don’t we?
M gives a laugh to break the tension.
J: How did you do that?
M: I was always right there reminding them. If I said “No” and they didn’t listen, there was always a consequence. I never let them get away with anything, so they grew up knowing that if they chose to cross a line they would get into trouble.
L: But that sounds so time-consuming.
J: And straining.
M: Sometimes that part of raising a child is hard, but I found most of it all a joy.
J grunts and walks off.
L as she walks away: Well, I have no idea how you can have all of that energy.
M to herself: You don’t care enough to make the effort. That’s too bad for you.

Going Away

You are going away
How I wish you could stay
But you had to go
Your boss told you so.

Dinner gets burned
My world had turned
Upside down and inside out
Without a doubt
Nothing is right
Without your kindness and might.

I can’t see the sweet within the sour
Without your power
T o keep the light
Within my sight.

Hurry home.

Mama

Mama

She does all she can for you.
Not for the pleasure of telling you what to do.
But to let you learn from her experiences
So you won’t have to burn the way she did.

She loves you like no one else can
She always has a plan
For something fun and new to learn
Never indifferent she is always filled with concern.

Never does she ignore
She runs when you cry
Never speaks scathing words
She asks what’s wrong when you sigh

She is love. She is Mama.

Just Words

Everyone has heard the saying "sticks and stones my break my bones but names will never hurt me" and we all know that's not true. It's just a subtle way for parents to tell their children to "shut up and toughen up."
Words are powerful things, they can be used to communicate the way you feel, they can be used to deceive, they can be used to move others in a certain direction, or to a certain way of thinking, such as a politician trying to win your vote. The power of words is awe inspiring, they can be used to boost someones self-esteem, or to bring it crashing down. We would still be gathered around in a cave if it weren't for word: (ug, food.)
If the spoken word is the King of ingeniousness, then the written word is the god of ingeniousness. The written word is more credible in a courtroom, than hearsay. Written words tell us the way of life was hundreds of years ago. We can even find ancient ideas that are still relevant to the present date.
Some people say fire was the greatest invention of man, others say the wheel, and still others say the microwave. But I say that words, (especially written words) are the greatest accomplishment of mankind. If it weren't for words, we wouldn't know how to make a fire, wheel, or microwave now would we?