Therapy, Thy Name is Blog

Tee hee! Tee hee!
It's time for my padded room, I see!
I like to speak in poetry.
This recap of the week will be
a fluid, rhyming therapy.

Tuesday--what a funny day.
Time to laugh, and time to play--
"I've missed you, since you were away!
Too bad that I just can't stay.
It's off to softball . . . just today."

But Wednesday was a big fat hit.
Mop the porch, control the fit.
Work, work, work with polish and spit
Then off to choir to sing, that's it--
But what? My child got mad and bit?????
Sigh and sit. And keep your wit.

Thursday. Time to clean some more.
Move some stuff, sweep the floor.
Abe works late, and that's a bore.
So I'll do laundry (my favorite chore),
Or spend some money at the store.
Or bang my head against the door.

Friday brought a lot of dust.
And a lot of dirt and trash and rust.
I cleaned the basement--a big fat must
before today, you'll have to trust.
But I worked too hard and nearly cussed.
I shouldn't have so impulsively fussed.

This morning was the loudest din--
It very nearly did me in.
The tractor roared, the hammers scoffed
We pulled our crumbling back porch off.
Oh, so much wood and dirt and brick
But then, the part that made me sick
Was when the worker threw aside
A concrete lid which tried to hide
The septic tank that lurked beneath
The tacked-on bathroom. What a treat.
No one knew the tank was there.
We've got city sewer, and not a care!
But now the back yard smells like poo.
And tomorrow's Sunday--what can you do?
We'll have to get the septic pumped
(Let's hope our budget isn't sunk)
Before we dig a basement tall
And pour the concrete for the walls
And frame some rooms, and roof and side
And lay some hardwood 12 feet wide
And paint and trim and tile and buff
And hope our money is enough.
'Cause when it's done, our house will shine
And I'll be glad to call it mine.
And while then, these days will seem so sweet
This week I'd rather not repeat.