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!
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