And just when i
Raise my hands to
Take my first morsel
(Having been served last,
As usual)
It is at that moment
That he decides
He needs to poop
"Mummyyyyyyy......."
Of course,
I am the mummy
But the mummy also needs to eat
Or so they don't think
Because they look at me
All those venerable ones who are
More than halfway through
Their meal
Who could simply
Gulp down the last two bites
And hold him until i finish
The
Watery dal,
Two pieces of potatoes
(None of the mushroom for me)
Half a pinch of achar
And as proof of love,
Oodles and oodles of rice
(Yesterday's)
That are my lot
But no!
They insist on staring at me
Stare stare stare
Unblinkingly
Until i get up with a sigh
Wash my hands
And take a wailing four year old brat
To potty
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