Still Rankling. In passing, on my way to the tennis court 'I'll quickly pop into the shop,' so I thought, I slid smoothly into Kroger's parking lot Not knowing I'd be dealt a passing shot. There they were, cluttering up Kroger's entrance aisle, Proud Mom with stopped shopping cart and fixed smile, There she was, a cute munchkin with her pretty dolly Mimicking Mommy with her lilliputian shopping trolley. I politely asked Mom if she might move it to let me pass, I could've- should've- just told her to move her ass, But I was raised by my mother to be nice and kind And not to say what was foremost in my mind. She clutched her trolly, a hard look in her eye And I knew this madam wouldn't let this go by, Grimly she pushed the trolly challengingly in my path- Seems I'd provoked this Mother of all Karen's wrath. Behind me my following shoppers grew pushy, restive, It clearly wasn't me that said something suggestive, But in a flash her eyes and trolly met mine And it was she, not I who crossed the line. It was a classic case of push cart goes to shove But petty-minded petulance I can rise above, So I asked her, once more, I asked her pretty please If she might allow me free access to the deep freeze? She told me to move my basket- or so I thought she said, As it transpired she'd call me a by-product of the unwed, That's a downright dirty lie, I know this for sure, Though Ma says I was four months premature. Some
spoiltsweet kids are just hard to get through to But for this progeny it was 'see Mommy do, kiddy do,' And this wee precious poppet, bless her heart Tried to smash my ankle with her kiddy cart. I looked down, pained, at the little moppet Awaiting Mommy to say 'Sweetie, stop it,' But Treasure looked neither tearful or fearful And Mommy Dearest gave me a right earful. I did my best to quietly ride out the damned pain But then the wee Kikamora rammed me again! I'd love to say I civilly held my tongue, but gosh, by golly Everyone behind me loudly cheered my serve and volley.