How Do You Like Them Apples

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?

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