Want a Fire Engine Honey

Here’s a fire engine, my husband said. Sure, I used to want one, and in red. But I am now older, and wiser too. I don’t want that anymore, you foo! But honey, you always wanted one. Sure, when I was eight, that dream is done. He is always trying to please, this man of mine. In a way, that is sweet, his attitude fine. But my wishes have changed, my toys are new. Expensive now, dealing with arthritis too. I am enjoying compression socks, Not marbles, trucks or a doll that talks. I have outgrown fancy clothes, and jewelry now. Where is my acid reflux pill? I take a little bow. I gave away my Christmas stuff, too much work. I don’t want a fire engine, I say with a jerk. I want warm food, electricity and pumpkin pie. I want to have my relatives visit once before I die. My toys are simple, I buy what I need, but do not waste. I like paints, glitter, canvases, and decoupage paste. A fire engine? Sure, maybe I wanted one once upon a time. But I have all the toys I need now, darling husband, of mine. You are wonderful, honey. Thank you for thinking of me. Please don't put a fire engine under this tiny tree!