My Children when I'm Blogging

Three coffee cups my mother loved lie

shattered on the floor.

Three ripe tomatoes splattered

when they hit the kitchen door.
Three jumbo eggs are scrambled.

But they’re not on a plate.

Three loaves of bread are crumbled.

I’ll use the crumbs for bait.
Three Barbie dolls have lost their heads.

Three pepper mills are smashed.

Three goldfish died while doing flips.

Three model airplanes crashed.
Three lettuce heads unraveled.

Three onions came unpeeled.

My parents didn’t know who did it

till my sister squealed.
My parents are befuddled.

They think that I’ve gone nuts.

But there’s a simpler explanation:

I’m a juggling klutz.