The Quintessential Parent Trap
I created you
the angelic, and the impish
with my proud and selfless
love for you.
I enthusiastically ate for two
the sweet, the sour,
the salty, ravenous cravings.
I carried you
inside me, everywhere;
goodbye figure and posture
hello nausea and inexplicable dreams.
Laboring for hours
endless pain, draining my energy
to bring forth you
into this unforgiving
yet inhabitable world.
You had the audacity
with your very first breath
to make demands,
your wails echoing
to clothe, to nourish,
soothe and diaper.
Ensuing endless days
of changings, lingering guests,
photo ops, engorged breasts;
exhausting nights
with the sleep-deprived
DNA benefactor
who cannot truly believe
he has the privilege
to growl about any misery
he encounters.
He is able, when he awakes
to go about his day
without having to consider
anyone’s urgencies but his own.
“But I bring home the bacon”
he assuages.…blah blah blah.
Your physical abilities
I guided, while offering
spiritual awareness,
lavishing you with gifts;
all your needs addressed.
Later you believed
you were granted the right
to walk away from me
at any given time,
while enouncing the notion
that I did not “know” anything!
I gave, gave, and gave some more
enabling you
to take, take, and take it all
disabling me
of my parental right
to unconditionally love you;
my most ungrateful
successor to the throne
of unconventional parenting.
Despite the rebel proclivity,
you ultimately discerned
my essential longing
for your reverence and
long awaited mature interpretation
of my maternal matrix of
noble nurturing.
If I may be so brash
to foretell of your own
inevitable parental destiny,
may your own
proverbial crimson piece of produce
similarly hit-the-dirt in close proximity
to your woodsy perennial.
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