So my wife comes home
Raving about the caterer
Who makes delicious lunches
At her office
I can only think
About the ridiculousness
Of teenagers who know everything
Then she goes into detail
About the egg sandwiches
With peppers and sausages
And I can only think
About being sandwiched
Between an adolescent peppering and
The angst of being on a team with no friends
Then she starts to tease my salivary glands
With talk of perfectly seasoned potato wedges
While I feel about half baked
From the oven that is entitlement
New day tomorrow…
What’s cooking?
