T’was the night before New Years when all through the day
I was thinking and thinking of a resolution to say.
It needed to be easy so I had a chance;
So I wouldn’t be stuck with should haves and can’ts.
I sat at my desk and stared at the wall;
I munched leftover cookies and thought of it all.
I sipped cold milky coffee, pondering my life,
And a headache formed, like it was stabbed with a knife.
When out of the blue I heard a loud crash;
I sprang from my chair brushing crumbs in the trash.
Away to the door, I grabbed at the knob.
I twisted it hoping I could handle the job.
The kitchen was strewn with sugar and flour;
It looked like it had been hit with a giant snow shower.
When what to my bewildered eyes did appear
But a miniature ghost with white ear to ear.
With a dust cloud so close behind,
I clenched my fist and braced for the whine.
More rapid than bunnies she shouted my name,
“I’m sorry, Mommy! I’m not to blame!”
“I didn’t mean it, I promise,” she said.
She grimaced and held her hands to her head.
“Now before you get mad, please listen, please.”
Then she rubbed her nose and let out a sneeze.
As whirlwind ensued disturbing the dust,
She flailed her arms as she cried and she fussed.
The whole scene got to me, I thought I would bust.
Like in slow motion, it all hit the floor;
The eggs, the milk, everything from the store;
I dropped my head, could take it no more.
As I covered my head and was turning around
My little girl stood without making a sound.
She stood like a statue all covered in soot;
Flour dust settled slowly from her head to her foot.
White handprints adorned her little black slacks;
She looked like a panda bear performing for snacks.
Her eyes – how they teared! Her mouth – how it crinkled!
Her hair was a mess, her clothing all wrinkled.
Her mouth opened wide but nothing came out;
Speak up, I wanted to holler and shout.
I tried to gather my thoughts behind my clenched teeth;
I contemplated punishment as I started to seethe.
The timer alarmed shrill through the air;
We both just stood stiff in our stare.
“I just wanted to help.” I heard her little voice crack;
“I thought as you work, you might want a snack.”
She opened the fridge and pulled out a plate.
“I made this for you.” She gave me a piece and I ate.
It tasted awful but she went to such work;
I smiled as I chewed so as not to look like a jerk.
“I made a resolution to help more and started a bit early.”
Then I knew what I must do; knew nothing so surely.
I pulled my daughter tight in my arm.
I hugged her real close and said, “There’s no harm.”
I laughed out loud right through my tear,
No resolutions for me; what I need is right here.
