Being born in the Year of the Monkey did not affect me at all
Except I love surprising, tricking and playing with people.
Trees are my favorite places to be and I hang upside down often.
I like the chitter chatter of lunchrooms, so I guess I was wrong.
It affected me a tiny bit.
I am child-like, not childish, but some people do not understand.
The other ones who were born in the Year of the Monkey do.
They are my most avid fans, playmates, and confidants.
We gravitate toward each other, speaking of silly, fun things.
Banana and peanut butter pancakes? Me too! Me too!
You loved the Curious George books? Oh, yes,
And the man in the yellow hat. We resonate with each other.
We are the jokesters, the players, the thrill-seekers.
We are the ones born in the Year of the Monkey
And we all do it well with a sense of fun.
The lunchroom at a grade school
My blood runs cold imagining being asked
To dive in there and try to be recognized
As an adult
I am the school counselor
Not the principal
I do not “do” lunchrooms
The only job I would have more difficulty mastering
Would be school bus driver.
When growing up, we had our seats
Around the dining table.
We knew where everyone belonged –
We didn’t need a label.
Within the car, the rules applied;
The window seat was mine.
The youngest got the middle seat –
He’d dare not try to whine.
As an adult, I’m still the same –
I like the seat I’ve picked;
In classrooms, lunchrooms, or the car –
Usurpers I evict.
Some people just don’t understand.
They think I’m dictatorial,
When really, it’s within my genes
To be quite territorial.
We all have quirks, and one of mine
Is choosing where I sit.
It’s juvenile and just a tad
Obnoxious, I admit.
But since it means a lot to me
Most people seem to yield,
Perhaps enjoying someone else’s
Craziness revealed!
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