My life on a lily pad.
Well, it IS an interesting title, is it not?
I have some pollywogs that are my responsibility.
(Nope. We didn’t use a condom.)
They’re growing up without my help.
Without my moral, spiritual, physical aid.
Without my cash donations, even.
They’re growing so fast.
Off to school before we know it.
I saw them at their conception’s result.
Little caviar lookin’ freaky things.
“My kids?” Hell no. Too ugly.
I want a paternity test.
(Yeah, me and P. Diddy.)
I saw ’em squirming around and punching their way out of the sac.
I even saw their odd little tails forming.
But where are they now?
Where are their land-legs?
Where’s their gratitude and thanksgiving?
Not here.
Are they victims of parental separation?
Divorce. The ugly “D” word?
Nah.
My triplex keeps me informed, mostly. She’s good like that.
Realizes the importance of kids knowing their folks.
What excuse will I offer up to them?
Not sure. I was never good at stuttering thru my feelings.
“Um…Uh…Well…Go ask yer Mother.”
Good thing their Mum and I stand together in their future.
I’m gonna get to see their legs spring out.
How fucking cool is that?
Way cool.
We just gotta figure out if they’re gonna go to Princeton or Harvard.
I’m saving my lillies, so’s I can pay for their pad.
See? Things work out.
Just give ’em a chance.
“Yank ’em out o’ the creek,” if necessary.
(Gotta push those legs out. Take ’em for a frog-spin.)
Put them in a rain barrel.
Life/Love finds its own way.
(And I can’t wait ’til one of them turns out to be like MOI, so I can rub it in! Nanny nanny boo boo.)
Peace and ribbit.
Lu said:
on June 21, 2007 at 9:55 pm
You say tomAto and I say tomato. You say tadpole and I say pollywog. I used to catch tadwogs in California growing up and then I put them in a bucket full of water. They would turn into tiny frogs and jump out of the bucket. They would usually end up you know what. They would make this transformation in the middle of the night and have jumped out before we knew it. Knowing what I know about your friend, I am sure your story will have a happy ending. The pollywogs will all turn into frogs and maybe one frog will turn into a prince (or princess). Please send the picture of the prince. I love happy endings and so does Vernon.
Love, Lu
Jeremiah said:
on June 24, 2007 at 10:02 am
Pardon moi, Ms. Lu, but we bullfrogs are quite annoyed by the supposition that princes/esses are superior to frogs. We’re simply tired of all you silly paparazzi flashing your bulbs and assuming that we aspire to be something other than who we are. We’re good with it. So jump off, eh?