# All Hail the First Day of School



## Chesters Daughter (Jul 26, 2010)

Will September ever come?
I'm just about out of rum.
Get me, give me, whine, whine, whine,
my kingdom for some gags and twine.

Stinking Legos bruise my feet
while I sweat displeasure in blistering heat.
Breakfast just finished, time to start lunch
I'm a tipless waitress for a rowdy bunch.

He said, she said, assaults my ears
as I bandage a scrape and welcome their peers.
Wii games and bodies litter the floor,
clouds roll in, oh please don't pour.

Outside is far better than in,
three blaring TVs make an awful din.
Beds don't stay made, bathroom's a mess,
that stuff on the carpet is anyone's guess.

I stare at the calendar adorned with flowers,
count the days and then the hours
'til domestic bliss is restored
by a decree from the wonderful Board.

The rum won't last, this I know.
I still have seven weeks to go.


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## SilverMoon (Jul 26, 2010)

Lisa, though I'm not a housewife (and sans children) you invited me right in through your front door into domestic discord and think you might need to share some rum with me already! On second thought, you hold onto it as you have seven weeks to go. I'll just chain smoke while the kids run amuck!

You've created such a vivid picture, Donna Reedless, in your own home. Now, you know I'm no expert on rhyming but what I "hear" sounds very smooth. And it's the meter which has much to do with this. Those beats I try to get down when I dare attempt to rhyme.

Some of your gems:

_What a great opener_


> Will September ever come?
> I'm just about out of rum


 
_Clever play on words and I think a double entendre._


> I'm just about out of rum.
> Get me, give me, whine, whine, whine,


 
_This really encapsulises the whole plight!_


> I'm a tipless waitress for a rowdy bunch


 
_This is why I'll chain smoke and leave you to your wine!_


> The rum won't last, this I know.
> I still have seven weeks to go.


 
Thank you for bringing me into a new journey. Anne Sexton was a writer housewife and worked allot of this into her pieces. Well, we write what we know. And you did this very well! Laurie


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## terrib (Jul 26, 2010)

I am so laughing.....how funny! Wonderful Lisa Lou! Reminds me of those hot summer days when we were kids....my mother would lock us out of the house...lol


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## Gumby (Jul 26, 2010)

Yes! Don't I know that feeling well!  I really feel your pain Lisa, wonderful job! I would quote a favorite, but they're all my favorite. :thumbl:


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## Chesters Daughter (Jul 31, 2010)

Dear Laurie, Donna Reedless was absolutely priceless, and me to a tee, you're so clever. I rescind my invitation, I like you too much to ever expose you to summer at my house. I must be getting old, usually I keep it together until mid-August, I'm frazzled way too early this year. How well you know me, the double entendre was quite intentional, thought it would be missed. Nothing gets past your keen eye. Thanks so much for smooth, I've worked very hard to try and learn proper meter, it's encouraging to see I've made some progress. As for the rum, I'll gladly share it with you, but only between mid-September through mid-June.:wink: Thanks so much, love, you made this silly thing so much fun.


Dear Te, What a treat to have you here. I can't imagine why Mom would lock sweet little you and your equally sweet siblings out of the house...okay I just reread my piece, good for the lot of you. Elated you enjoyed, love, and that I stirred some memories. Don't be such a stranger, I miss you.


Dear Cindy, We really must compare battle scars some day, I'm sure your war stories will rival mine. Pleased to the umpteenth degree that you liked.


Thanks so much, my dear ladies. Now, if you'll excuse me, I can hear Captain Morgan whispering my name over all the lovely screaming.:wink:

Warmest,
Lisa


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## Firebird (Aug 1, 2010)

Dear Lisa,

Really enjoyed this piece. It made me chuckle with sympathy.

Love,

Firebird


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## jpatricklemarr (Aug 1, 2010)

As a stay-at-home dad who homeschools his older daughter, there is no such thing as a reprieve for me. 

This poem, while light in tone, has just enough darkness to make it ring true. I particularly appreciate the reference to mystery stuff on the carpet. If I could keep my kitchen for clean for just a single day... my hardwoods shiny for even an afternoon... I would be, I'm certain, a happy, happy man.

I've always said the only pieces that truly matter are the ones that ring true (even if they are fictional)... and this succeeds in that respect. As so many of your pieces seem to revolve around familial chaos, I think they would make a perfect (and cathartic) book for all us stay-at-home mother/father types.

J


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## Chesters Daughter (Aug 7, 2010)

Dear Firebird, Elated I could induce that chuckle, love. I always enjoy your pieces so much, it's makes me happy when I can reciprocate in kind. 


Dear Jeff, It's been far too long since your presence has graced one of my threads, preacherman. And while I know it's a very overloaded schedule that keeps you from us, please know that you are sorely missed. Still home schooling I see, God bless you, love, you don't even get a few hours respite. We who stay at home with the kids, whether male or female, share many of the same experiences, it comes with the territory. Glad you could appreciate the stuff in the carpet, sometimes I wish I could call in CSI to tell me exactly what it is I'm trying to scrape off and whether or not I need a hazmat suit.:wink: I'm honored that you think I could compile a few of these family pieces and perhaps have a book, unfortunately, (actually fortunately), I only write these out of frustration and they've been few and far between. The kids have been reasonably behaved and things have been quiet, leave it up to them to be contrary.:wink: 'Twas a pleasure to hear from you, Jeff, hopefully once things quiet down, you'll be back in full force. 

My heartfelt thanks to you both.

All my best,
Lisa


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