The exercise:
Write a four line poem about a: workaholic.
Prompt and take inspired by Max. On more than one occasion recently he's refused to play with Natalie in favor of working with either myself or Kat's parents around the farm. I feel for my niece, but it's also pretty hilarious.
It was a cloudy, windy day here today so we were only outdoors in passing a couple of times. Spent part of the morning in town with my family, doing some shopping and hitting up our coffee shop. This afternoon I was with Max at Kat's parents house before leaving him at his cousin's house while I went home to get started on dinner.
Tomorrow's weather isn't looking that great either, but I'm sure we'll find a way to pass the time. We usually do.
Mine:
Just play, play, play all day?
No sir, that's not the life for me!
There's too much work to do -
After all, I'm already three!
2 comments:
That's quite sweet of Max really (though obviously not in Natalie's eyes). Those guilt trips you lay on him when he's off playing must be working ;-)
And I rather like the attitude in the poem... but I wonder, will Max intend to retire when he gets to 5?
Workaholic
An alcoholic mother and a workaholic father
– I always wondered how they found time to create me.
Then when Mom went back to work, Dad got in a lather
She was a taster as the local distillery.
Greg - if he retires when he hits 5, I look forward to seeing what he gets up to in his retirement years :P
Yes, where did they find the time indeed? That's quite the tale squeezed into four rhyming lines. Consider me impressed :)
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