(Bonus points for anyone who knows where this post’s title comes from.)

——

Shall I compare me to a frazzled mom?

I am more sleepy, and delirious.

Rough spills do mess up kitchens clean and fair,

And carpets here are far more vomitous.*

Sometimes too hot the voice of mother speaks,

And often are good children scared to death.

As sometimes mother yells more than she should,

By fluke, or mother’s full exhaustion’s wealth.**

And my eternal packing shall not cease,

Nor lose possession of the junk I claim,

Nor shall the toilet clean pee off itself

When little boys forget just how to aim.

So long as I wade through my duties deep,

So long lives limbo, I shall never sleep*

——

*We had a puking incident today, just after I finished cleaning all the carpets…

**Or possibly because my kids are big fat (but adorable, natch) stinkers

*Yup, still in limbo, with no official end in sight just yet.

(Did you notice that the whole thing is in full sonnet form: 14 lines, in iambic pentameter, rhyming, AND ending in a couplet? Yeah… I felt like I needed to point that out…)