Mary's Will

I, Mary O'Donnell
Being of sound, mind, and body
A state of being that is familiar to me
Having grown up in the Midwest
Leave all my money
To my three children

Cara, Danny, Shila

All on the condition
That they spend my money

Of course, this should go without saying
Money is always spent

But I have some suggestions
Actually, no I do not have suggestions
I have CONDITIONS upon which they must abide
If they are to inherit my money

I want them to spend it
Frivolously

When I was raising them
I taught them to save
I taught them to horde
I taught them to clip coupons
And to buy on sale
And to never purchase anything
You couldn't use at least twice
And for three different reasons

I taught my kids to fear money

Now Cara rents that apartment
On that side of town
That looks like a circus sat down on it
And never left

Danny's idea of a vacation
Is a road trip to the next town over
To grab a few beers
And sing Aerosmith karaoke

And Shila gave up the ice cream brand she liked
Because the price went up
A whopping twenty cents

Now she eats the stuff
With plastic spoons

This is all my fault

Until I started thinking about delegating my finances
Post my exit from this life
I never made the connection
That spending money
And enjoying life
Can be one and the same

So now I got some money to hand out
And I'm going to make sure
That they don't stash it away
In some bank somewhere

I want them to spend it

And my lawyer informs me
That I can tell them
Exactly how to do it
And they have to
Or they have to leave it where it is

So here's my will and testament--

I want Danny to go places

I want him to go to Europe
I want him to go to Hawaii
I want him to go to ridiculous places
And eat foreign food and get food poisoning
And spend three days shacked up
In some run-down motel
Thinking he might die

Because that's life right there
And for once
Money's going to give these kids life

I want Shila to buy stuff
Lots of stuff
Stuff she doesn't need

It won't make her happy
But it'll give her a few laughs
And she'll need those laughs after I'm gone

I want her to buy that dress
I've seen her look at
Every time we go to the mall

I want her to put it on
And go to some fancy party
And drink champagne
And marry a rich guy
Who can give her even more money

I want her to stop feeling like she's nothing
Just because she doesn't have a pretty dress
Like the girls she went to school with

Her eyes and her smile
You can't buy with money
But put that pretty dress on her
And she'll be unstoppable

And then there's Cara...

I want her to buy a house
A great big old house
Somewhere nice
Where she can have her brothers and sisters over
And have great big meals
And talk about what a wacko I was

I want her to wake up every day
And look out her window
And see a good place
A nice place that she lives in
That's a part of her

And she'll know she's worth it
She's worth feeling that way

You know, my mother had every nickel she ever earned
Stashed away in coin jars
All throughout our basement

And when I was nineteen
Someone broke into that basement
And stole those jars

And my mother never even cried

You know why?

Cause she knew
She was never going to spend that money

She was probably relieved
To not have it down there
Calling out to her
Begging to go somewhere
And do something

She was held prisoner by her money
And when I had money of my own
I was the same way

But not my kids

My kids are going to spend this money

And when they do
They're going to think of their Mom
And how she taught them all the wrong things
Then took it back
And told 'em she was wrong

They're going to know
That love and laughs
And life and vacations
And dresses in store windows
And a house you can put your name on
And a meal you share with your family

Are things you can't put a price on

That's what I want them to have
When I'm gone

Mrs. Brugel's Valentine

Kiiiiiiiidsssssssss

Now you know Mrs. Brugel
Does NOT like to talk about her personal life
Until Friday
When she can properly
Summarize the week

Summarize--I believe that was a vocabulary word last week

Sara--Stop slapping yourself
The voices in your head
Are just your meds wearing off
And that means it's almost the end of the day
So just hang in there

Today is a special day
Today you're getting a glimpse
Into your third grade teacher's special adult world
ON A WEDNESDAY
Because something exciting has happened...

Mrs. Brugel has gotten herself
A Valentine's Day Date!

Now, please, don't jump out of your seats and scream

Okay, maybe you can
I'll tell Mr. Nobidobi next door
That there was a spider running around
The poor man is from Indonesia
He won't know what I'm saying anyway

Something tells me the only thing his fourth graders are learning
Is how to make chopsticks and dry clean a sweater

ANYWAY

Back to my date!

This is where Mrs. Brugel has to stop using pronouns
So that she doesn't get fired
By the discriminatory bigots
On the school committee

God, Mr. Nobidobi's room
Smells like chop suey
And it's wafting over here

What is he doing in there?

ANYWAY

My date--no pronouns

Well, this PERSON is very kind
And very...maternal
And very...feminine
And has...

Spectacular...

Breasts

Nick, put your hand down
I know you know what I'm talking about
But this isn't about guessing genders

We play Guess the Gender before recess, remember?

I brought in those photos
Of those European models

Sara, give Nick some of whatever you take
Next time you get a refill
His short-term memory is failing him

ANYWAY

My Valentine's Day will be spent
At this very special person's home
Where we will take in an Iron Chef marathon
And then give in to our innermost desires

Did I remind you children
To cover your ears for that last part?

Oops, taps on my nose
For naughtiness

I plan on it being an amazing holiday
For the first time in eons

Eons, children, means Mrs. Brugel
Hasn't had carnal pleasure
In years

And carnal
Means pleasure
With someone
Who doesn't sneak out the next day
Leaving you only a note that says

'Please forget this ever happened'

I can't wait for this weekend!

As soon as this person's daughter is knocked out
On her sleep medication

Uh, Sara, cover your ears for this part

. . . . .

As soon as that happens
I will finally know
True Valentine's Day bliss!

Yay!!!

Now, who wants to color
Before the bell rings?

Coupons

I got yogurt
It was on sale
I had a coupon

I had three coupons actually
But only one was honored

The other two coupons are sitting in my purse
They've been dishonored
I'm not sure what to do with them

I hate to throw them out

I mean, they're still coupons

They still mean something

They're like little supermarket poems

Discount haikus

But they've been shamed

I had to make a choice which coupon to use
And the other two sit at the bottom of my purse
Knowing they weren't the chosen ones

Does it break my heart?

Wouldn't it break yours?

I bought a spatula today
Because it was buy one get one free

I already had a spatula
Now I have three

I figure...

Now I have options

I may not always want to use
A blue spatula
Some day I may want to use
A green spatula

It's about the options

My husband keeps asking me
Why I buy things
Just because they're on sale

I tell him that I don't worry
I just happened to want
Fourteen turnips and a shank of lamb
This week

Cravings are cravings

At least I avoid those bulk stores
Everything on sale?
All the time?

I'd be overwhelmed
I wouldn't know where to begin
I'd probably keel over in some aisle
With foam coming out of my mouth
Like a rabid animal

The other day I drove to Connecticut
Because an independent supermarket chain there
Was having a sale on bacon bits

When I calculated the gas to coupon ratio
I figured out
That I was saving exactly
Twenty-three cents

I still went

It's a sickness

But the point is I saved money

And when you've saved money
It's a good day

How to Earn Your Allowance

I've created a chart
So that you can figure out
How to earn your allowance

It's very simple
Color-coded
With lots of smiley faces
And encouraging exclamation points

This is how it works

You get a penny
Every time
I ask you to clean your room
And you don't tell me
That you wish you were adopted
And slam your bedroom door so hard
Your Grandmother's picture
Falls off the wall
And onto the cat

You get a nickel
Every time
I check on you at night
To see if you're asleep
And I don't find a note from you
Saying that you and your boyfriend-of-the-week
Have eloped to Guadalajara
And are never coming back

I know you're a girl
And that these things happen
But I'm getting sick of the police mocking me
Every time I call them now

Having them come over
Only to have you show up at 7am
Eating an eclair
And saying you're so over Slam or Slash
Or Cutter
Or whatever guy
You've just left

You get a dime--a whole dime
Every time you wear an outfit
That's bigger than a napkin

You get a quarter
Every time you make it through a whole day of school
Without making your History teacher cry
Or lighting the girls' room on fire
Or telling your principal that I beat you with a tire iron
Just because I wouldn't let you drive to Vegas
With three of your girlfriends
For Spring Break

And listen to this

You will receive an entire dollar
Every time you borrow my car
And bring it back
Not smelling like an opium den
In Calcutta

Follow this chart
And by the end of the month
I could potentially owe you
Quite a bit of money

How Much Does He Owe You?

So c'mon
Tell me

How much does he owe you?

He owes my brother
For the bail money
And the booze
He bought
Right before he clocked Clarke
At Peterson Pub
In Knodson

He owes my mother money
For getting his car
Out of impound
When he parked it outside
The house of the girl he was seeing
Works at that bakery downtown
The girl, not him

All around that girl's house
Is a no-parking zone

He had both the city and God
Telling him to stay away from that tramp
But he parked there anyway
And got his car towed

He owes his friend Richie money
From when they went gambling
And he told Richie
That real men
Go double or nothing

I guess real men
Go home broke too
Cause that's how he came home
I'm surprised Richie didn't make him
Leave his watch as collateral

But people don't do that to him
They trust him

God only knows why

So how much does he owe you?

Just tell me
And I'll go get my purse

I used to complain
About having to pay people off for him
But now I don't bother

When someone's a friend
Or they're family
And they do stuff like this
You get indignant
And you scream at them
And eventually you cut them off

But when you love somebody
It's just money

It's just the price you pay
To love 'em

So just let me get my purse
And I'll pay

I'll tell you one thing though
The price to love him
Seems to keep getting
Higher and higher

God in Love

I made you a Sunday

Like the last one we had
Where we were walking
In the garment district
Eating roasted peanuts
Laughing at the very first knock knock joke
Ever created

I think that was the day
I made laughter

That Sunday with you

So I made you another Sunday
And it's just like the one
We had that day

Identical in fact

Right down to the roasted peanuts

I thought if I did that
I thought if I made you another Sunday

I thought...

I can make a star system
I can make aluminum--from scratch
I can make an apple orchard

But I can't get you
To where I am

You like me, love me, maybe
As a friend

You think it's sweet
That I invented poetry for you

But you can't write me poems back
Because I'm just your God

I'm just God
That's all

I've watched your birth
Over eight thousand times

Seeing you come into this world
Is like remembering the time
I created symbiosis

I was so proud of myself
That day

But not as proud as I was
The day I told you a joke
That you didn't just laugh at
But repeated

I thought that was the beginning
Of a downhill slide on a sled
Going fast and having fun
And leading to going inside
To get warm

And instead the sled stopped
Midway down the hill
Caught on something
Not able to go any further

And it felt like I was jettisoned from it
Into the air
Never landing
Looking back at you
Wondering why you stopped

You stopped, didn't you?

We were going along
Weren't we?

Weren't we going along
Getting along
So well?

. . . . .

Do you know the day created love
Was the same day I created music?

I saw someone
Hand a woman
Her baby
For the first time

And as she held him
She started to speak
But there weren't words
There just weren't words

So I gave her music instead

That was the first time
There was love

And when I see you
I hear that music
I hear that first song
And I wish...

I wish I could make music
To sound
Like that Sunday

So you could hear it
All over again

Nana's Brooch

The brooch is the thing
That reminds me of her

Her brooch, always on her
Always making her look
Like a class act

My poor Nana...

Such a hard life she led

'Til the day she died
She worked

Worked, worked, worked

Now she's dead

And here's her brooch

Maybe we should have buried her in it
But she never asked
So who can say?

I look at that brooch
And I see Nana

But you know what else I see?

A cruise
A nice cruise
On the Bahamas
Sipping drinks
And getting a tan
That doesn't require
Having to find a parking space
In the strip mall
So I can go to Benny's Bronze Babes

I see braces for Anthony
Get that Stonehenge he calls a mouth
All straightened out

I see my husband of ten years
Who has never known a luxury in his life
And I see myself
Hiring a private detective
To prove he's been seeing that girl from the bakery
Down on Tito Street

I'm no fool
Nobody eats that many muffins
In a week

So yeah, I could keep the brooch
But what the hell would I do with it?

Wear it?

It smells like the spice rack
At the dollar store

Should I put it on a mantle somewhere
In front of Nana's photo?

It's not a bowling trophy
It's a pin, for crying out loud

Nana would want it
To do good

Because that's all my Nana ever did in her life

Good

So I'm selling that brooch
And I'm taking the money
And I'm putting it to good use

And once I get back from my cruise
And divorce my husband
And get Anthony's jacked up teeth straightened out
I'm going to go put some nice flowers
Right in front of Nana's headstone

(You know, I hear the florist next to Benny's Bronze Babes
Is having one hell of a sale)