From the perspective of an eight year old
Mommy raised her voice at me
like all mommies do
"Son, CLean UP AFTer YOURSELF!"
Like she always does,
she flickered her eye lashes
and progressively got louder
with each word
I bit into the apple
of my slithering tongue--
the forbidden fruit; saying
"Where did you hear that from?"
her gleaming eyes spoke
in harsh hisses
"Daddy, says it driving every day
to the cars in front of us." My fear
coating the gasps of
'oh my gosh, she is going to kill me.'
"HONEY!" from the other room
my daddy swallowed, "Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?"
"YOU ARE GROUNDED!"
I looked astounded at the sound
My mommy's pronunciation
formed by her goddess lips of maternal grace
screaming at my daddy instead of me....
A fine kill