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You're Not the Boss o' ME

You’re Not the Boss o’ ME! “You’re not the boss o’ ME!” is a comeback you’ll hear among children when ordered by someone they feel has no privilege to force them to do - or to not do - whatever it is that THEY wish --- And it surfaced today when some dumb little girl, with the ugliest pigtails I’ve seen, invaded OUR dock like she owned it and snarled...“Get lost - little boy…I must alone when I fish!” “You’re not the boss o’ ME!” I proclaimed with a glare. “This ain’t your dock…and you ain’t my friend, so if anyone’s leavin’, it’s you,” I went on...“do you actually expect me to pick up my tackle and leave?” “Listen, you dweeb,” she erupted, all pissy…“YOUR dad told MY dad that I can go fishing wherever I please, and -- completely alone! And, if...little boy, for some stupid reason, you’re finding that hard to believe... “You just run off to your mommy an’ check!” Well...literally fuming, I gritted my teeth, and looking her straight in the eye - I proclaimed, “Whatever our fathers discussed…little girl”…means nothing whatever to me! And I won’t be leavin’ for three or four hours, so don’t hold your breath while you’re waitin’!” I added...countering her blatant insistence with info intended to - hopefully - help her to see That guys of my stature will never surrender their dignity - pride - and respect by lettin’ some tough-talkin’, freckle-faced, pinhead begin to give orders when dealing with something as macho as fishin’! See...dudes like myself...who’re known - among fam’ly - as unsurpassed anglers are not in the habit of letting a female...especially of twelve or thirteen...chase ‘em away from a “favorite spot”...so naturally I made it my mission To find me a method for pleasing our fathers...while honoring her preference for fishing alone - if I could! “On days when I fish,” I started my spiel, “I usually get up with the sun, which I’m gonna wager is certainly earlier than you... So...wha’da’ya’ say to us sharing the dock --- sorta, you know, each take a turns? I’ll fish from six to, say, ten or ten-thirty --- then you fish - ALONE - from, say, ten-thirty on…and I’ll stay away from the dock until two? “And if - around two - you send me a text pleading profusely for slightly more time…being the really nice guy that I am - and - provided you’ve taken the deal - I would be willing to let you keep fishin’ ‘til possibly clear up to three!” By the look in here eyes I was pretty well certain that never again would I have to contend with that impudent, freckle-faced dork! In fact --- “that being the last time our paths ever crossed” was what I was praying the ultimate outcome would be! But turned out that tragically ominous meeting was merely the first in a series of steps that would lead to the mess that I’m currently in, and I’m caught in the same situation my father has struggled with all of his life! The fact is...that twelve-year-old, freckle-faced piss-ant...who’s yet to be swayed from the choices she makes...now OWNS the boat dock... plus pretty much all that we have ‘cause she’s been - for the past several decades - my WIFE!! PS: I've now got 4 new Audio-CDs - @ 4 1/2 hours each = (62 diversely varied pieces). They’re listed on EBAY - under - “Mark Stellinga Poetry” - or available by simply contacting me at -- mark@writerofbooks.com -- should those of you who enjoy listening to poems as well as reading them - and particularly those of you that travel - care to be so entertained. (We use safe and simple - PayPal) There are a bunch of my pieces on YouTube as well --- Cheers, Mark

Copyright © | Year Posted 2021




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