Tea With Murphy
This, said Mary to herself,
Has been a hell of a morning,
What with Tom being late to work,
And the kids almost missing the bus,
And the lady from the bank calling,
And the cat throwing up
All over my blue silk blouse,
And if I don't get a cup of tea soon,
I may cry.
So she filled the teakettle,
And fought with the old gas stove until
It condescended to light,
And got out the tea canister,
And found there were no clean cups
And swore as she rinsed one out,
And went to spoon the fragrant leaves
Into the old tin strainer,
And was abruptly startled by the vicious hiss
Of the kettle boiling over.
Hey, Mom, said eight-year-old Heather,
Coming home from an unexpected half day at school,
And finding tea leaves scattered on the counter,
The floor, the seat of the chair,
Mom, are you okay?
Why are you crying?