An all too typical morning
It's another spuddle morning,
I struggle through the haze.
Late night writing, early rising
makes for bleary, dragging days.
With filter, grounds, and water ready,
I'm waiting for the pot,
but the switch that's never flipped
becomes the pot that's never hot.
The coffee's finally dripping,
and so's the bathroom floor.
Kiddo used the shower stall,
but not the shower door.
My slipper socks are sopping now,
wet towels in the bin -
Mom, come quick, my kiddo calls,
the cat threw up again.
Robocalls and missing shoes,
my spuddle day unfolds.
And when I get a moment's peace,
the frickin' coffee's cold!
Author's note: ▼