A Sign

I just poked myself in the cheek with a corn-on-the-cob prong,
hard enough to draw blood
while lunging my face toward a cob of fresh sweet corn.

It came loose and stabbed me just at the moment I was going to take my first bite.

What does it say about me, that I consumed the corn anyway,
one-pronged
before tending to my wound?

Apparently I will not be deterred.

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He Left Me A Note

I came home from dropping the Teenager off at work to find the house empty.
I went around calling his name until I found this that Twin Boy left me.

He is the most considerate kid ever
and his handwriting is so awful it's kind of wonderful.

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