I sneak up on them,
pounce on her at breakfast
him while sleeping.
A quick squirt of anti-flea
on the back of the neck.
Triumph! They hardly react.
What, no fierce resistance
of hiss and threatening claw?
No agonised screeching?
No over-the-shoulder glares?
No silent stares of reproach?
I’ve lost my Bad Mother badge.
(This is not part of the 30-Day Letter Challenge.)
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