I was sitting at my kitchen table
feeling very ready and very capable.
An important task needed to be done,
though it’s never enjoyable or ever fun.
It was morning time… or, well maybe afternoon.
So I was relaxing, and then going into the city soon.
My poverty breakfast was quickly made;
two pieces of bread – sans the marmalade.
But I had a strong cup of coffee to drink.
And now I just had to access my bank.
Because it’s time to pay the bills, you see,
For internet, for lights (but not the TV!)
And as I spread my papers around
And lined up the piles into a little mound,
This familiar sense came over me,
like I’d seen this done previously.
And as I organized the bills one after another,
A thought struck me – Oh crap! I’m my mother!
(Editor’s note: It is not at all crappy to be my mother. It is not at all crappy to be like my mother. Children just tend to have these "Oh crap!" moments. And Mother, if you’re reading this, don’t pretend you haven’t had these thoughts about Grandmother.)