I have accepted so many
unreasonable requirements as a mother
like waking up
whenever they want me to,
plotting to get them into gymnastic classes
like a general in a war room,
and playing games
that are so boring
my yawns tear at the sides
of my mouth.
But for some reason today,
the necessity of feeding my children
again
after having fed them
so very recently
landed in my body
as a final injustice
I could not overcome.
They watched me
as I slowly lined up
all their lunch-sized
yoghurt containers
and ate them
one by one.
I then told them I was full,
and that I sincerely hoped
they would feel
the same way
soon.