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The Idea-list

January 21, 2010

I live in a house that never is messy,

Where laundry is folded and mother is dressy.

I wear bright red lipstick and tri-pleated skirts,

Pearly-pearl earrings and button-up shirts.

My husband is suited, and tied up, and cuffed,

He trots in galoshes and goes out in a muff.

The children, dear children, are starched in the morning,

Play all day tidy, sit in their corners.

Their noses stay put, they don’t ever run,

And their tender young faces never burn in the sun.

They beg for chopped lettuce and shun the ice cream,

They never wet the bed or have a bad dream.

Even the house pets do as they’re told,

Don’t pee in the corners, never grow old.

My house runs precisely, hour by hour,

The bread’s always fresh, the milk never sour.

Like a thousand small packages tied in a bow,

I like my house neat and my family just so.

But I must admit sometimes I want to upturn precision

Pour dust in the corners, break up the rhythm.

Tousle the hair on the head of the kids,

Loosen the ties, pull off the lids.

For life in a package, shiny and spun,

Is small, neat, and boxy, and frankly, no fun.

  1. Loni permalink
    January 21, 2010 9:52 am

    Well, Tiffany;, this is certainly fun; both the rhyme and the pictures.

  2. January 21, 2010 10:24 am

    so cute and so true! Moderation is sure a great thing. It helps you appreciate all sides. Such a cute family!

  3. Alice-Anne permalink
    January 21, 2010 2:36 pm

    tiffany, your poetry is great! It’s true…where’s the fun in that?! BTW: I wish I could come to your Old Testament class…I’m sure you are excellent!

  4. January 21, 2010 6:25 pm

    According to the bottom picture…I wonder if i should rethink my adventure with you to minnesota??!! 🙂

  5. Janelle permalink
    January 21, 2010 9:18 pm

    Brilliant! That made me smile.

  6. January 21, 2010 10:45 pm

    Thanks friends, especially for bearing through my sub-par poetry!

    Emily, it’ll be a blast. Just bring ear plugs.

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