uh oh, here is another dirty sock.
the hours of the day flew by
so briskly i often want to cry.
for in those tiny ticks of time
my littles morph like climbing vines.
the sweetness of the days is lost
amongst the chaos of all that is tossed.
i yell, pell mell, and change many a pant
until i am just too numb to rant.
i wish to collapse like a sack of beans
i am quite simply out of steam.
i long for hours spent reading rhymes
with no distress about the time.
i wish to take the road that is spent
loving my littles with no regret.
clan mac mama
Ah, I bet you are sitting at your computer, hunched over like the rest of us with the terrible posture that would make my Nana poke you in the back...wondering why on earth you should read my ramblings. I've got only one answer for you...in view of the fact that I happen to be a bit of a wackadoo, my musings can be your evidence that you are completely normal, thus relieving you of the fear that you have gone loco. Leave that part to me. Oh, and I love to use the thesaurus, as I have an affinity for elocution and a deep seated, albeit odd obsession with grandiose language.
So dig in and be prepared...