A Valentine Ode to That Perfectly Perfect Mommy at my Son's Preschool

Well, this is a little bit of a mean post, but I'm going to let it all hang out tonight. Welcome to my dark side, folks. I dedicate this to all those Martha Stewart loving type A perfect mommies out there who would never be able to handle one day of me and my slovenly ways. Here's to you:
(and my apologies for the sloppy rhymes)


I am Perfect
Perfect I am

That Ms. Perfectly Perfect!
That Ms. Perfectly Perfect!
I do not like that Ms. Perfectly Perfect!

I do not like her perfect hair.
At 9 a.m! Perfect hair!
I do not like her organic snacks.
I don't like her kid's Eddie Bauer backpack.

I do not like her organized ways
I do not like her checking out my grays
(Not all of us has the luck
To update our 'do's for hundreds of bucks!)

I would not like her in my house
For I'm sure she'd judge me as a louse
Just because my white floors aren't clean,
Honey, your housekeeper is my sweet dream.

I would not like her at a park
With me in sweats that're my trademark.
Squirtin' her kids up with hand sanitizer,
While my kids remain none the wiser.

I do not like her here or there,
I do not like her anywhere.
I do not like Ms. Perfectly Per-fect
A glance from her and I feel nit-picked.

The End

Horrible ending, but "perfect" doesn't have a lot of rhymes. You'll have to cut me some slack.

Anyway, in case that didn't make you sad enough, I wasted more time by coming up with a limerick:

There once was a mom at J's school
Who made Meanie Mom feel like a tool
With her perfectly coiffed hair
Meanie Mom didn't have a prayer
Standing there covered in Roo's drool.

And finally, I leave you with this Haiku:

She brings homemade cards
Wove from specialty paper.
5 o'clock is far away.

Okay all. I'm going to go work on my self-esteem issues.

You all have a great night!