The Problem with Daughters

--  Romeo, Romeo  --

"The Problem with Daughters"

She loves him

She does

I can see it in her eyes

That mix

Of stupidity and grandeur

She adores him

And she loves

That I hate him

That we all hate him

It makes him more appealing

I told her father

I told her we should have smiled

We should have smiled

And pretended it was fine

Family feuds be damned

All we had to do was smile

And she should have lost interest

She does not like boys like him

Not normally

He's chubby

I don't mean to be mean

But he is

He's chubby

Who could be this in love

With a chubby boy like that?

Not my daughter

My daughter is gorgeous

Have you ever seen hair like that?

I would kill for her hair

She cut it once

When she was seven

I wanted to murder her

Destroying hair like that

Do you know what she told her father?

She told him

That they made love

Using only her hair

As a blanket

He threw up

All over the place

My poor husband

You can't say things like that to him

Let alone scream them across a room

The imagery hit him

Like a wave on the ocean

And up went dinner

All over the new carpet

My daughter's love

Made my husband vomit

No one can be happy anymore

It's true, really, it is

I could have NEVER

Said anything like that

To my father

Or my mother

Or anybody

I was never so comfortable

Talking about things like that

I never even knew

Things like that

Happened

Maybe I'm envious

Hell, of course I'm envious

My daughter is having sex

I can't even imagine

And with a chubby boy!

Imagine what she could do

With someone attractive

At least she has a talent

I'm a good hostess

That's my gift

But what good is it

When nobody will come to your house

Because your husband keeps throwing up

And your daughter screams obscenities

In the hallways

I should have had a son

Sons are so much easier

The problem with daughters

Is that they feel a natural competitiveness

With their mothers

Or maybe it's the other way around

All I know is

My daughter sensed

That I had no passion

In my life

So she went out

And destroyed her life

Making sure

That the only thing about it

That was notable

Was the passion

The irrational

Unnecessary

Passion

Hold on a second...

That chubby boy is outside again

He's yelling something

Who knows what

She says he's a poet

I tell her you can't make money

As a poet

She tells me there's more to life

Than money

That's how I know she's crazy

Let her wash vomit out of carpet

Instead of having somebody do it for her

Then ask her how feels about money

He is a sweet boy

I have to say, he is

I can't lie about that

But there are so many sweet boys

There is a world

Full of sweet boys

Some of them svelte

And some of them

Are even poets

Not many

But some

. . . . .

I'm going to lose her

I'm going to lose her to sweet words

I'm going to lose her to poetry

To passion

To her rebellious nature

I'm going to lose here

That's the problem with daughters

You lose them

You have to lose them

And you don't know

If you get them back

Losing is a guarantee

Reclaiming them is not

. . . . .

When she was a little girl

She used to play magician

She'd make potions

Drink them

Then curl up and die

These big

Dramatic

Death scenes

And I used to feel a pang

I knew she was playing

But she was so good at it

So good at embracing

Something that terrified me

Death

Her death

And mine, I guess

I hated when she played magician

Because even toying with the idea

Was too scary for me

Being her mother

Is like going on a diet

I keep telling myself--

Tomorrow I'll tell her it's okay

I'll tell her she can love whoever she wants

I'll tell her I understand

Even though I don't

I'll let her go

Tomorrow

That's the problem, you know

The problem is I love her too much

Every mother loves their child

But I love mine too much

That's the problem

That's what's going to do me in