Eight-Year-Old Logic
(Learning prudence at a young age.)
Granddaughter is back
for another weekend visit.
She's a voracious talker.
"Mom and Kenny,"
she says. "argue about
who gets to do the dishes.
Mom says, I will do them.
Then Kenny says, No,
It's my turn."
"That will soon be resolved,”
I say. “Your mom will decide
Kenny gets the job."
"I said that in my mind,”
she quips.
“But not out loud.”
Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment