A Bookworm’s Dilemma
My husband is upstairs coughing; he thinks he has the flu,
I know I will now be busy for the next week or two.
There is mowing and sewing and a party for Uncle Ben,
Cousin Kathy is having a baby, I forgot to ask when.
Last week I went to the library instead of shopping at the mall,
I started Chapter 1 while standing in our hall,
My Mother thinks she has gastritis, last week it was bronchitis,
And I just want to read my book without another crisis.
The house is messy and cleaning is a must,
But Chapter 5 is full of intrigue, drama and lust.
The toast is burning and I am starting to choke,
Chapter 8 is about poison placed on a long, thin spoke.
The school bus is coming, it is almost here,
The refrigerator contains only milk and two cans of alcohol-free beer.
The children grab crackers and a moldy hunk of cheese,
The baby is sneezing and starting to wheeze.
I ask them to be good and to have a nice day,
They look at me longingly, they really want to stay.
I gather their belongings and lead them to the door,
Helping to find their sneakers strewn across the floor.
I glance at the dust bunnies rolling all about,
The pantry is almost empty I really should go out.
I trip on toys, games and a large beach ball,
A headless doll is propped up on the dining room wall.
The sun is shining brightly and I should go for a run,
But reading a really scary novel is a lot more fun.
Just a few more pages and then I will be fine,
This book is wonderful, seriously divine.
The hours pass and time creeps ‘round the bend,
There are still dishes to wash and sweaters to mend.
I set the alarm for one more precious hour of bliss,
I promise to stop then, I really can do this.
Deep in the story of murder, mayhem and gore,
I forget about the tasks which I’ve chosen to ignore.
I know what I do is just not right,
But given the choice I would read into the night.
The baby is wailing and the cat is in her bed,
I see what is wrong and lay down instead.
I glance in the mirror and am quite a sight,
The dog looks up and growls with fright.
Crazed serial killers have become my newest passion,
Destroying my sense of thought, reason and interest in fashion.
Chapter 10 is the best, really, the best so far,
There is an alien being that has been trapped in a jar!
The school bus is back and the boys want to go out,
I gather my wits as they begin to shout.
I must finish the page and beg for some quiet,
They think that is funny and that I am a riot!
I am anxious to read more of the intriguing plot,
But the windows need opening, we are all way too hot.
I look up from the story and see red paint on the lamp,
The carpet is wet and the ceiling is damp.
The bathtub is running and flowing over the side,
The goldfish is swimming; he thinks it is high tide.
I shut off the tub; the fish will be just fine,
I now need to conjure up something on which to dine.
I order pizza and salad; it is the perfect thing,
We turn on the TV and wait for the doorbell to ring.
Tonight while the children sleep with only thoughts of rest,
I will finish the book; It is really quite a quest.
I will be better tomorrow, honestly, I will,
I will clean the whole house, I will pay every bill.
I will cook stew in the crock pot and make soup galore,
I will empty the trash and handle every chore.
I will hang sheets on the line and try not to protest,
I will enter my name in a pie making contest.
But for now I have to find out if the potion was digested,
And who the police think should be arrested.
I have to admit so that you will understand my new “thing”,
I have fallen madly in love with the author, Stephen King.
Lorrin Krouss, a former senior legal assistant working in the law department of a major publishing firm, changed her workaholic lifestyle when she moved full-time to the beautiful Berkshires. While pondering what to do with the rest of her life, she was inspired to write fiction and memoir after attending the 2012 Berkshire Festival of Women Writers.
Her support team consists of her ever-encouraging husband Andrew, their four children and five grandchildren.