The Extrovert

For about seven months last year, I had a single mom and her young daughter living with me. The daughter was very cute when she wanted to be, but she also had some very rough days. This poem stems from one of them.

The Extrovert

Originally written April 13, 2018. #113

I was exhausted. That day had been long.
I wanted nothing more than to be home
And play my games and sit around, alone.
My roommate’s kid met me with boisterous song.

I started dinner. She grabbed dirt and grinned,
And tried to sprinkle it into my meal.
I grabbed the salt, which she then tried to steal.
“Child, please behave,” I stressed, and stressed again:

But she, high energy, a grade-two clown,
Just wiggled her butt high up in the air,
And threw a workout ball against my chair,
Seeking attention, never settling down.

I sent her upstairs to her mother’s wrath:
An early bedtime, following—a bath.

Photo by Damon Lam on Unsplash

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