During the day
I feel, always, in the back of my mind
I have two young daughters
(one, covered in chicken pox)
(one, two years old and full to the brim with joie de vivre and mischief)
Who need me
Need my attention
And a house that feels the effects
Of two young girls, stuck at home.
Counting down the hours.
Biding my time.
And after the baths and stories and kisses and hugs and glasses of water and more kisses and more hugs and tucking back into bed and tucking back into bed again and sometimes but not always tucking in a third time because it’s just that sort of a night
(as long as I can ignore the dishes)
(I’m remarkably good at ignoring the dishes)
I’m less remarkably good at ignoring