When nothing is planned
And summer gets long,
The kids come running
To sing their people’s song.

He kicked my face!
She stole my book!
He showed me his butt!
She shouldn’t have looked!

Screeching and thumping,
Then footsteps towards me,
With grievances ready
In hopes that I’ll be….

What? Do you want me to yell?
Do you want me to punish?
Are you looking for sympathy?
Do you hope to astonish?

My standard reaction
Disappoints the little Judas.
Go handle it yourself.
I don’t know why you do this.

Despite my disinterest,
They can’t seem to refrain.
There’s nothing too trifling
For them to complain.

For so many reasons, I am grateful we were able to have two children.  This is not one of them.