A Poem of Sorts
'Tis that time of year again...
Off I go,
with three girls in tow (definitely outnumbered).
Supply lists in hand,
each girl has their own special demand.
(Pink scissors, purple folders, glitter crayons, and Ashlyn gets bored so in the cart she stands).
Youngest screams, snacks go flying,
I am audibly sighing,
and my tongue I am tying,
and if I said this was fun, I would by lying.
(Side note: Most of the time, I love shopping with the girls, I was just stressed and unfocused and Ashlyn was crabby. Ok, side note over, back to poem).
Stores were pretty busy,
parents frantic and in a tizzy.
Shopping cart full,
the experience has taken its toll (on me and the bank account).
Lists complete,
and I need to get off my feet.
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