14
Mar
09

Friday Night Six-thirty

My mom probably hasn’t left work yet.
The only other adult is down the hall.
So, since it’s just you and me
Let me ask you…
Why are you here?
They’re still hiring at McDonalds and at Target.
I hear there’s always room at the bank.
You could take customer service classes.
It’s clear you no longer like children.
Mom pays $30 a day-
That’s my excuse-
But why are you here?

Why do you talk to me?
You ask me what I want
But you’re not listening.
I want a cracker.
I want my mom.
I want to go home.
Please go away.
You only want me to do what you want.
I’m just going to scream and say “no”
So why talk to me?

Why can’t we be nice?
I know you’re really tired. I am too.
We’ve both logged a lot of hours.
Maybe we can make a deal.
Give me my binky. You have some coffee.
I’ll share my blanket by the books on the floor.
If you don’t tell Mom I wet my pants,
I won’t say you yelled and cried.
By Monday morning, we’ll both feel better.
I think our secrets will help us start over.
Maybe everyone could be friends here
And that would be…nice.
Right?

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