Little Peanut Butter Hands attack me from all sides.
I need the break from hands that only solitude provides.
Singing, dancing, drumming, playing, skirmishes and whines.
It in the moments like this one that for the beach I pine.
I love their happy faces, just not when they’re quite so close.
I think the problem may be that I took too high a dose
Of restless summer days and children asking for a snack.
Some days I think I’ll run away and maybe…..not come back.
But hey, the hours left of this are only forty eight.
The peanut butter will be gone and I can sleep till 8:00.