Poetry Girl Scout Cookies (by Ms Doggett)
He walks through the door and says “Honey I’m home” as if I’m not standing here looking at him. He turns to put his coat on the rack by the door. I sweetly said, “Glad your home honey, Shelia called”. His coat and shoes must have weighed a ton because he didn’t move an inch and I wasn’t sure he was still breathing. Like the news-paper funny pages, I could see that little white balloon above his head filled with the words “damn, damn, damn, no -she- didn’t”.
He turn to speak but I cut him off and said don’t worry about, we’ll talk later and I left him standing there and headed to the kitchen and fixed his plate. The tension at the dinner table… you could cut it with a chainsaw. We got ready for bed, room filled with guilty silence, regret and no eye contact. He reaches for me and says “I’m sorry” and I said “Sorry for what”. He said that he only slept with her once and I looked at him and said, “She called to see if you still wanted her Girl Scout Cookies”. Well, I guess you do.