i'm okay

If I have to pee,

and Chicken jumps on my back

while I'm looking under the bed for his shoe,

I'm okay.

If Buster bleats for me from the other room

maaaaaa maaaaa

look at meeeeee

while my head's under the bed

and Chicken's on my back

wiggling around and still not wearing

his goddamned socks,

and I have to yell back from under the bed

"Just a minute Buster!"

and then I have to yell it four more times

so I sound hysterical by the time he hears me

through three walls, Chicken's arms around my neck,

and the fact that I'm yelling

into the space between the floor and the bottom of a mattress,

I'm okay.

And if Ryan turned off the A/C before he left for work this morning

and a bead of sweat is tickling its way

like a wet spider

down my rib cage,

I'm okay.

And if Chicken falls off my back onto the bed frame

and whines out in pain but not injury,

and if Buster hears Chicken fall

and starts to cry preemptively

to ensure nobody is louder than he,

and if I still have to pee,

I'm okay.

But if one more thing happens...