Like the Very Mold on My Bread Is He (in parody of Sappho) by Stephanie Scarborough Like the very mold on my bread is he who sits in his recliner all day, who watches football games and yells, "Hey, bring me a beer, toots!" Oh, I'm in love. And cater all for him. And he just won't hear it when we're out of chips, and we're short on Chee-tos. "Darn it, Jan, go to the store!" his voice cries, like I'm doing nothing. And I'm almost driven to violence, under- neath my skin my red blood boils and fuses, and I give him the evil eyes, the look that makes males shudder. And he hauls out of his chair on contact, moves his body, runs to the car, and takes off; we both know I have that guy trained. I sit down while he does the shopping. © 2002 by Stephanie Scarborough. All rights reserved. Home