Neither A is 14 years old
it’s just that they seem 14
when they gang up on me
and accuse me of being a girl.
It’s enough to make me giggle
and lash out about boys being stinky
and howl about how I have to live
with *two* of the species.
Especially if it's yesterday
and I’m trapped between them
in movie-theater darkness
trying not to watch Jackass # 2
and wondering
if that bag of popcorn
could double
as a barf bag.
But tonight, when one of them
made their 8 p.m. bedtime
after reading like an angel
and the other is working till morning
it makes me miss them so hard
that I wish there was something on TV
worth watching--preferably with
witty doctors and/or chubby-cheeked brats.
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Friends and old neighbors shutting it down in honor of John Crawford. _
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