IN PRAISE OF BEING A GROWNUP

I pulled back the sheet from the bed
and tossed it into the wash

I suddenly remembered back
to our 6 months in a leaking boat
living with my in-laws
and how they HAD to have our bed made
every day
and how much I HATE making beds.

MY parents were the same way
as if a neat, made bed was the only thing
holding Western Civilization together.
...had they lived until 2006
they might have said:
"if you don't make your bed,
you're letting the terrorists win!!"

I'm all grown up now,
I DON'T make my goddamned bed!
I also don't fold my underwear or match my socks.

I take long, hot showers and empty the water heater,
I sleep in the nude
I sometimes drink beer for breakfast
and eat French toast for dinner

I turn out the lights and watch TV in the dark
and sometimes I leave lights on in rooms
where no one is.

I eat Corn Pops and Honeycomb and Sugar Smacks
and sometimes I eat Cool-Whip right out of the tub
with a spoon
and declare THAT a meal worth having

I go outside in the cold without shoes
and wear holes in my socks
and don't replace my shoddy tennis shoes
when the sole begins to come off

I swear sometimes, too, and curse
and take guilty pleasure in crying out
"well, goddamn!"
and
"Oh, Jesus Pumpkin Pie Christ!"
which I first learned from a Stephen King novel

On the whole, being a grownup
ain't all that damned bad.