Showing a little humor this morning, here's one I wrote a few years ago, but it's one of my favorites because it always makes me smile when I read it again.....
I GOT THE DOG
Barbara J. Galasso
I can't remember now; it was so long ago, if you and I separated, we got divorced or if you died and were buried in your grave, but I know that you went your way and I went mine, and I got the dog.
There was a house to be sold, furniture to be divided, possessions split up between us. Somehow, you still lived in the house, ate at the same table, and drank from the Waterford glasses, but you told me I should be grateful because I got the dog.
There were children to be shared, visitation rights to be divided, holidays split. School supplies needed to be bought, clothes to buy, food to fill their tummies. You said you had bills that kept piling up, alimony was ruining you, and child support was choking your lifestyle. I was to take care of the kids when they ran a fever in the winter, but come summer vacation, you wanted them on the beach with you, because after all, if I needed company, I got the dog.
You found yourself a new girlfriend so you can't pick the kids up this week-end, you tell me. "Okay then, how about next week-end?" I ask. Nope, you're flying down to the Bahamas with "her" so that's not convenient either. “How can I possibly make you understand this feeling I have while I’m with her?” you ask me. It’s like we’re floating in the clouds,” you confide in me. "Well how about my week-ends, I ask while you’re floating in the clouds?” I scratch my head and look down on the floor and I'm reminded by the one who lies by my feet, that I got the dog.
Time passes quickly, and we're both getting old and gray. Your girlfriend has left you. Your hair line has receded so you get hair plugs. Your middle has spread to unattractive proportions, so you buy yourself a year’s membership in a gym and a brand new bright red sports car hoping the "sweet young things" will take notice again. I on the other hand, drive around in my second hand station wagon because I need something to put the crate in, because after all, I got the dog.
You carry the startled look of plastic surgery on your face. You need a hip replacement. Your knuckles are swollen and twisted from arthritis. The kids no longer recognize you. You're lonely and blue. Your sports car is in the garage with no one to take a ride with. You turn to me for comfort and solace. “Oh no, don’t come running back to momma,” I warn you. You chose to lay down with the dog and now you caught the flea. I on the other hand got rid of the flea, but I still got the dog!”