I Found a Big, Fat Rat In My Parents’ Bed

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Abstract

t inspiration close to home, and I decided to use it as a theme for a fast and easy poem. Sue me!</p><p id="03f5">It’s a warm, beautiful Sunday, and I’m home alone with King Ratatouille, my dear father. My lovely mother, Queen Ratatouille, left us to our own devices and went to the countryside with her brother to visit my 93-year-old grandfather, Emperor Ratatouille.</p><p id="b486">I feel guilty for saying this, but it’s so quiet without my mother in the house. The truth is, we miss her every time she goes to the countryside for a few days.</p><p id="bca4">Don’t tell her that, though. We’ll never admit that we’re looking forward to her return before she even steps foot out of the house!</p><p id="0ea0">King Ratatouille is both the most pitiful and shameless fool ever. This fat raccoon sleeps on my mom’s pillow with every chance he gets, snuggling by her side on the bed when the Queen is not in her royal chambers.</p><p id="8b46">I caught him in the act so many times, and I reported everything to the Queen, who is always adamant the King doesn’t soil her pillow with his dirty sweat. And yet, much to my <i>(exaggerated)</i> surprise, the Queen already knew and just laughed it off when I told her.</p><p id="8cf0">Now that’s cute, but I won’t lie… As

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a criminal mastermind, it annoys me a little bit that my snitching on the King’s audacious acts was easily brushed aside with no drama.</p><p id="936d">It seems to me that the fat rat is getting spoiled too much by the Queen, and if nobody spoils him, he has no trouble spoiling himself. He’s shameless till the very end.</p><p id="917b">My parents are at that <i>“acting cute age,”</i> and you know how middle-aged parents are. They need their kids’ full attention. But I don’t know what’s the best offspringing strategy. I feel like I failed them as a son since I’m too soft on them.</p><p id="34f9">Is anyone else dealing with the same thing? I need some advice here.</p><div id="8f5a" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/read-or-die-publication-rules-03813fc16904"> <div> <div> <h2>Read or Die — Publication Rules</h2> <div><h3>Updated January 2024 Guidelines</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*12VP38Uw7-aiufW2DP5Ohw.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

It’s Good To Be the King

The king-sized rat turned into a hound, Tossing the bed sheets, sniffing around. His most prized loot makes the fool spellbound: The Queen’s pillow has been lost and found.

King Ratatouille adjusted his crown And laid his silly smiling face down; When his lovely Queen is out of town The royal chambers are ruled by this clown.

HOW DAD SLEEPS WHEN MOM IS NOT HOME: IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BED, ON HER PILLOW!! || Image Generated with Bing AI ∙ February 25, 2024 at 1:45 PM

Author’s Note

Day twenty-five of my 29-Day Poetry Writing Challenge is a cheat day. I found some light inspiration close to home, and I decided to use it as a theme for a fast and easy poem. Sue me!

It’s a warm, beautiful Sunday, and I’m home alone with King Ratatouille, my dear father. My lovely mother, Queen Ratatouille, left us to our own devices and went to the countryside with her brother to visit my 93-year-old grandfather, Emperor Ratatouille.

I feel guilty for saying this, but it’s so quiet without my mother in the house. The truth is, we miss her every time she goes to the countryside for a few days.

Don’t tell her that, though. We’ll never admit that we’re looking forward to her return before she even steps foot out of the house!

King Ratatouille is both the most pitiful and shameless fool ever. This fat raccoon sleeps on my mom’s pillow with every chance he gets, snuggling by her side on the bed when the Queen is not in her royal chambers.

I caught him in the act so many times, and I reported everything to the Queen, who is always adamant the King doesn’t soil her pillow with his dirty sweat. And yet, much to my (exaggerated) surprise, the Queen already knew and just laughed it off when I told her.

Now that’s cute, but I won’t lie… As a criminal mastermind, it annoys me a little bit that my snitching on the King’s audacious acts was easily brushed aside with no drama.

It seems to me that the fat rat is getting spoiled too much by the Queen, and if nobody spoils him, he has no trouble spoiling himself. He’s shameless till the very end.

My parents are at that “acting cute age,” and you know how middle-aged parents are. They need their kids’ full attention. But I don’t know what’s the best offspringing strategy. I feel like I failed them as a son since I’m too soft on them.

Is anyone else dealing with the same thing? I need some advice here.

I Found a Big, Fat Rat In My Parents’ Bed

Wait… false alarm… it was my father!

It’s Good To Be the King

Author’s Note

Read or Die — Publication Rules

Updated January 2024 Guidelines