The evidence in your hand,
the purloined cookies crumbled
around the mouth, down the shirt,
the ones that suddenly leave
a bad taste for having been
busted.
You can feel it coming, the
gathering storm: the air sucked
from the room, danger sparking
from unhappy eyes, rolls of
thunder fixing to drop on
your head.
Puppy eyes. That's what you give:
lips trembling, you look up at
Mommy and say, "I didn't
mean to take 'em." Instead of
the strike, she takes you in her
arms and
holds you next to her heart: she
can't stay mad at her little
man. Especially when
they exchange puppy eyes for
a spanking: fast thinking on
I can't speak about kids, but I know my dogs have escaped punishment many times because of their big, brown eyes! Gotta love them. Fun poem with lots of truth!
Sheila
Karla... been missing you, so ventured to your site again.. have read some great stuff today...some I'd already read and liked, but I keep wanting to know more about you... and this puppy one is so precious... Loving arms and sad eyes always seem to do the trick! good writing as always... lindalaw
yes It is really hard to stay mad at children for doing what comes naturally to them, hands in cookie jars, mud on feet, bugs in bottles and great big hugs are all part of being kids.
The Wholly Book of Doo-Doo-Rot-on-Me is adult satirical humor featuring adult language and adult content, and the work is a parody of the Old Testament Book of Deuteronomy.
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Sheila
You have a thief, I have a Houdini.
But the eyes are the same.
Well done.
--RaeLynn
John
This is really good Karla.
Fee
Newfie hugs are on the way, Rose
Edwin
Love it Karla!...ET
In Christs Love
Michelle~
Mary
very well done...
John
Those puppy dog eyes will get 'em, every time!! Adorable write; very well penned! BRAVA!
(((HUGS))) and much love, your twink, Karen Lynn. :D