People say we went walking together —
Papa, Baby and I, in nice weather —
as we waited for porridge to cool.
Point of fact? I took Baby to school,
breakfast long since consumed. It was Monday,
also known as my weekly have-fun-day
with Rapunzel and Cindy and Snow:
we go shopping and take in a show,
then grab tacos or maybe some blintzes.
But they all had gone out with the princes.
I slumped home to find sirloin remains
and two napkins with cabernet stains
side by side on the dining room table,
"Evil Stepmoms Gone Wild" paused on Cable.
Lingerie trailed upstairs and beyond.
On my pillow: six hairs. Curly, blonde.
Where was Papa? Some creaks on the landing,
then my husband was suddenly standing
by the bed. A back window slammed shut
as he babbled, "You'll never guess what!
Chased a burglar away! Things got gory!"
Even Disney's not buying that story.