Monday, April 26, 2010

Five Times, With Feeling

Your sweaty-socked feet dangle over the lazy-Boy,
the tv a constant blare of video and comics,
notebooks and popcorn bowl scattered about,
so much tween-age detritus.

Please, take out the garbage.

Bart Simpson mocks Homer, then whizzes off
on a cartoon bicycle. A low grunt erupts from
behind the armchair, your foot swings back and forth.

The garbage. Now, please.

You reach for the phone, half ring; your voice
sounds an octave lower even as you crank back
the armchair, prostate to afternoon sun seeping
through the neglected jade and philodendron.

Son. Take out the garbage. Now.

A disgruntled sigh, the phone clatters on the endtable
beside the glass sweating cola rings on veneer.

FINAL WARNING – TAKE OUT THE GARBAGE!

The volume ratchets up, closing credits reel by,
arms and legs disappear behind the safety of corduroy.
A microsecond of silence.

Please, son, would you take out the garbage?




Sure, mom.



***

Prompt: 5 times

Peace, Linda

7 comments:

  1. Ah, Linda... I remember those days well. I suspect i will be doing that to my kid pretty soon. Another elegant post so very well presented.

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  2. I've heard of this type of thing.

    mine have learned I'm a 3 timer and after that the garbage will be in their bed. It only took once :-)

    BTW I have now sent on the last of the missing 3...Tony's holding :-)

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  3. ah..so this is why I don't have kids..

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  4. These days aren't too far off for me. Right now it's "Honey, please clean up your room."

    The first stanza sets the scene perfectly.

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  5. Five strikes?
    I kind of like Paige's approach, but dumping garbage in my 3 year old's room would probably be an improvement to the Barbies-Mermaids-Princesses floor decor.

    --John

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  6. Thanks all! Oh believe me, Will gets 3 strikes, but the prompt, ya know...

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