Confessions and Corrections

To the siblings of challenging children, I offer this.  I was a challenging child, but as is evident below, not as challenging as everyone thought I was because this poem is probably 90% true.

                Confessions and Corrections

It’s possible that I, intent on helping, dumped the flour.

Perhaps I scattered raisins, if you found them at that hour.

Or spilled the milk you stepped in and in which you trailed your robe.

But I didn’t hatch the plan to cook the breakfast, so you know.

I’m sure I stole a cookie from the plate they meant for guests.

I’m likely why you found that bug in the pocket of your vest.

I’m the curr who gave the kittens yarn.  They liked the red!

But I have no recollection of dead frogs under my bed.

I did swing on the clothes line which bent the pulley south.

I did turn on the hose, which drenched my dress. I missed my mouth.

I buried his Darth Vader, who was never seen again.

But I didn’t draw the face upon the wall with marker pen.

If pressed, I will admit I took those crayons from the cup,

So we needn’t cover how the lawn Madonna got made up.

And, I often wore the ice cream given to me as a treat,

But I didn’t drop the gum wad you found on the sofa seat.

I did try to make coffee with some tinfoil and a match

You only found the remnants.  I was successful with one batch.

And though you might not paint me as the apple of your eye

I’ll remind you that, in fact, you have survived.  And so did I.