I've called this town meeting to get your attention,
There's a few pressing things that I'd like to mention,
Since no one wants to hear what I have to say,
You can all read this poem and make decisions today.

You are my offspring and you are so dear,
You're also adults and your're living here,
But, this day will herald a new set of rules,
Because, I'm your parent and not a work mule.

A box for soiled clothing will be put in your room,
And when you've nothing to wear, you'll wash, I assume,
Launder your bed linens when you can't take the smell,
Or choose better amenities at a local motel.

We'll spend quality time cooking our meals,
Taking turns washing dishes won't be a big deal,
Mopping floors will just give us more time to bond,
With letters, not toll calls, you'll correspond.

Trash will go out when day turns to night,
And the dog needs to potty at first morning light,
All yelling and fighting really, only offends,
Adults living together need to be friends.

We'll all arise at a decent hour each morn,
Like your dad has been doing since the day you were born,
We must all contribute to the big, heavy load,
No cow to eat grass, so it has to be mowed.

Your are my roommates and that's more than fair,
As long as we respect and learn how to share,
But, if these rules fail and you expect something more,
I have one thing to say and that's, "Hit The Door"!
 

Judith Hartley  Copyright © 1999.

 
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