Parents Just Don’t Understand

(This song’s been stuck in my head so apparently this post will be in verse.)

Okay, here’s the situation
My parents brought me home after my “vacation” and
They gave me space in their bas-e-ment
Will they mind allll my stuff? Of course not.

My things were kept in a storage room
Safe from the elements and impending doom.
I saw my bea-utiful table in the corner,
It was looking very fine (so was I, I must say, word).

Pay attention here’s the thick of the plot
The part that made me nearly scream “Oh God!”
I saw a blanket covered with mouse poop…
Maybe I shouldn’t… yeah, of course I should.

I flipped the blanket and I nearly died
As a gray rotting thing hurtled through the sky!
It settled on the floor near my favorite books
And I raced… from… the room in hysterics.

I told my parents and they laughed and laughed
And my dad muttered ’bout the family he had trashed.
See, I’d found a nest full of frozen mice
In a box… that… I need for my office.

I begged and pleaded for his help, you see.
Batted my eyes and tried to pout, but he,
He told me where to find the broom and pan
and said, “You want the table you gotta be a woman.”

I’m 35 and I guess I’m an adult
And to make this long story short, short,
The mummied mouse found a home in the bin
And my table’s in the basement where I am livin’.

About Melanie Hooyenga

Writer. Designer. Jock. Reader. Wife. Puppy-Mama. SCBWI member since 2015.

22 Comments

  1. A new sitcom in the works? The Stale Princess of Michigan?

    Maybe the mummified rats I found in my ceiling can come over and play with your mummified mouse.

  2. robinaltman

    Ew!!!! I’m so sorry! I once left my car at my uncle’s farm for a year, and the heating system was filled with mice. Starting the car again killed them all. It was sooooo yuchy. Now I let all mice live, because I’m scared of the dead ones.

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