Said I, "... can't stand flies that zoom in this room,
I will fix the window, then gaze at the moon."

I do not remember how fixing it, I did.
because I am used to being the kid,
especially when my husband's a round but
in spite of my lapse, I am sure it was sound
ly done, but I can't quite recall, for just
at the moment of glory, did I fall:
overwhelmed by a fly landing on new win
dow: "Stand back!" I'd triumpheted, (it might have seemed slow
as) I watched my big hammer apply a big thrust
"Now that will teach 'em; his brains shall I bust!"

Oops, I got the fly, but the window it flew
in spite of my ecstasy at what I could do.
A little too proud; ditsy girl once again,
Oh fuck it, I'm never competing with men.

My husband he laughed;
The fly, did it flew? or did it die stuck to the hammer like glue?
Or did it laugh with him, my carpenter dear?
I don't quite remember, just wish I'd more fear.

Thanks to Loreann Russel and her wonderful tale: Adventures in Wall Papering