My Pessimistic Wife

I go in for chemo session #2 tomorrow. I sure hope my blood platelets are somewhat back to normal or at least healthy enough so that we can get this next session under our belt. As for the poem – OK, I admit it – I do exaggerate a little when it comes to some of my poems. But if you know Pat (my wife) (and you really should as she is the better half) than you know I don’t exaggerate all that much when it comes to her thinking. She worries about everything while I laugh everything off. That’s why we make such a good couple all these 40 years. Mike My Pessimistic Wife My pessimistic wife Wants to put me in a bubble With my platelet count the way it is She’s predicting naught but trouble She took away my razor She’s hidden my nail clippers She won’t let me go barefoot She doesn’t trust my slippers I think she’s thinking steel toes And a suit of armor suit A helmet for my head then A place where I’ll take root The roses – no, the whole outside She considers them quite deadly If I should prick my finger Will I become a dead me? With Band-Aids in her pockets She’s watching like a hawk Points out all the obstacles Each time I stand to walk She’s probably thinking padding For my elbows and my knees I can’t take much more of this Won’t someone stop her please? Sure my platelet count is down some But barely under par I’m not a hemophilic Nothings gone that far I’d have to nick an artery For there to be a geyser Someone needs to sit her down Talk to her – advise her I know that her intentions Are as noble as can be But this all day long attention Will be the death of me Mdailey 5/26/11