Stones & Snakes

I wanted to eat hamburgers all night

to see if it would really kill me. 

But you didn’t let me. 

I could have paid for them myself.

I had the money; all I needed from you

was a ride to Burger King. 

You never let me do anything fun.

 

And what about the time 

I wanted to eat rat poison?

I wouldn’t have eaten that much;

only enough to make me stronger 

in case an assassin tried to put it in my food,

like the guy in The Princess Bride.

Okay, I wanted to know how it tasted, too,

but that’s not the point. 

 

Sure, you cook me dinner every night

and I guess you get me presents on my birthday

and for Christmas, but not that crossbow when I was seven.

Don’t you remember that? It was the one with metal-tipped

arrows, and it could hit a target fifty yards away.

I promised I wouldn’t aim at the cat. 

I thought it would have been a good gift

to give to me, but you didn’t.