Lap Dog

One of these days,

I am gonna sniff you out.

I know you're in there.

For now, though,

I am gonna go back home,

because I haven't decided what I'm gonna do with you yet.

Cultural Schism

I am to the Midwest tomorrow, with my parents and poodle, and I have reunions of all sorts in mind. 

When my father's side of the family still hosted picnics every summer at the various parks of Branch County and called them Carpenter Family Reunions, Child-Krissy (who never turned down an opportunity for praise) was always recruited to bring pasta salad, folks oohed and ahhed over her omission of mayonnaise, and her clever addition of feta cheese and olives, because of how exotic and "gourmet" they were.