I had my daughter for the afternoon.
A friend had come back home, from her vacation.
They had to have a playdate just as soon
As she was here; this bit of recreation
Made custody a little less exclusive,
And made me feel like less of a reclusive.
I took them out for ice cream, with one other,
Whose sister's earache kept her home in bed.
I did it as a favor to her mother.
"Thank you, so much! No soda, please," she said.
We stormed a local diner, for the treat.
The three of them preferred the counter seating;
They clambered up, and sat with dangling feet,
And truthfully, liked spinning more than eating.
Then I recalled a diner, far away.
My uncle took me there when I was small.
I see the counter stools; but to this day,
I can't remember what I ate at all.
He must have felt this -- richer than the king,
For doing such an ordinary thing.
I wish the girls the memory as well,
So they can have a story they can tell.