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She bustles her boys out of bed grouse, groan, growl groggy gripes snarky snipes, as they squabble their way to breakfast Packs their lunch crunch, smack, munch, they eat hurry boys- catch the bus flurry and fuss all the way outdoors, scuffing floors She sighs, so relieved, can't be peeved not today! her Tuesday to spend her own way, so she tidies up, takes off Catches train excited to see city sights outlook bright she perks up, suddenly a plucky pup- young, free! Sylvia housewife on the loose no restraints restrictions glorious contradiction of her daily life Not his wife or their mother- No! Today she's just herself happy, hopped down from the shelf and gone out to play Takes her time slowly strolls up the street, feeling quite complete savoring silence, she sips sugary coffee Has a word with little old man in the park half deaf, he BARKS his reply- my oh my! People stop and stare Sylvia doesn't even care He's lonely and so sweet puts coffee down, and pulls him to his feet, and they Dance and sway around the park, glad no longer sad, lonesome little old man, but Dapper Dan, a youth again Coy, he toys and play-flirts with her happy smiles silly grins blows a kiss as she moves on remembering when Next she spies an odd street vendor racks of caps gaudy hats in all their silly splendor ridiculous fun And she must have one! So many to choose from she picks one with feathers and fake plums, so garish it's charming Then she stops at the five & dime wasting time gathering a hoard of candy to eat by herself- her treat! She buys two plastic six-shooters too, popping caps, BAP! BAP! She pretends to shoot all the crabby folks she sees Not amused they glare at her and criticize mean looks in their eyes, she should “act her age” the world's not her stage But they're wrong today it is, and she's a whiz real McCoy thirty-seven and a half year old, grown-tomboy All day long (at least until three) she is free rollicking rowdy and raucous, climbing trees and scraping knees But before the kids get home and husband comes she transforms Housewife-Sylvia once more catching up her chores When they ask “What'd you do all day?” she smirks, says “I'll never tell” and they roll eyes, thinking they know her so well... And she laughs plotting next play-day in her head where she'll go shenanigans she'll pull as she paints the town red!
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