Ode To The Weekend

Where did you go? Have you left forever?
Don't you remember? It was good.

Naps. We used to go out after the naps.
7 a.m. was never a time we saw. 7 a.m., nope.
Camping, sitting in the sun, traveling, TV, beer.
Don't deny the goodness. You can't. You won't.

Now, you are gone.
Oh weekend, it is not fair, it is not right.
You've been knocked out cold by a toddler.
No fight.

Running, chasing, working, scolding.
The boy... that boy... has sent you into hiding.
He means well, I know. But the poop... all the poop... raises questions.
Those difficult, pungent questions.

He breaks. He spills. He cries. He whines.
He whines, he whines, he whines.
Remember wine, weekend? Not the same.
A shame.

Funny, he is. Funny, ha ha.
Hide and seek. Dancing.
Sweet and sour sauce on his head.

Still, relaxation comes when the lawn mower hums.
How sick. So wrong. No fun.

But, with morning comes a glorious pair.
The paid work week... and day care.

I'm tired now. More tired than before.
Weekend, I miss you so.
Reality and Mr. O.