LIFE Poem: Trojan horses & other homemade wars, by Pam Ward

Whenever I went to Costco, I bought condoms for my son
I never said anything. Never made a drawn out speech
I figured the Trojans spoke for themselves.

One day, I came home to this girl in hidden in his room
chin to chin they sat there watching tv
Even if he didn’t, I knew why she was there.

The next day, laying barefoot, she painting her nails
A shade that made canaries proud.
“I’ll get you a bottle if you want,” she told me.

Unfortunately, my smile translated to consent
Because the next day, she brought a putrid vial for me
Well, I thought, at least she ain’t stingy.

As weeks melted to months, I hoped she’d evaporate like soap
but with the door closed, she shrieked to Judge Judy on tv
followed by laughter that sounded insane.

I was going crazy. Everyday was the same. Soon as my
husband left for work, she appeared. Her oversized purse bred
under the bed and I wondered if one Costco box was enough.

I should have spoken sooner, especially when a Courvoisier bottle
appeared but as a step-mom to a full-grown son, I didn’t rock boats.
My motto was more like, “Who wants cocoa?”

One day, I woke to the microwave beep and the sound of feet
scurrying down the hallway. Eventually, she sauntered in the kitchen
at her leisure, peering in frig, helping herself without a word.

Maybe it was her laughter, or all the liberties she took,
but one day, I finally snapped. I didn’t care if I caught them buckass
or in the middle of the act., I swung the door and barged in.

“OMG,” she said “This food is so good. He told me you could cook.”
She made ravenous jabs. I swallowed her complement hook,
line and sinker. Everyone has their weakness.

Two months later, she rolled a new bike down our hall.
“I’m hiding my son’s gift. He won’t find it here,” she grinned.
Your son? Who was watching him? After that, I admit, I was done.

But I procrastinated. Grappling between rat fink & cool mom
Meanwhile, the bike gleamed like a shiny Trojan horse
reminding me that Christmas was right around the corner.

After the holidays, the bike was replaced by her son.
He stared at a Game-boy like it held the secret of life.
“Hi,” I said to him. “Hey,” he replied. His eyes looked like he drowned.
.
When my husband took a business trip, she moved in.
El Pollo Loco wrappers flooded the counter. Happy Meal toys ate my toes.
The boy rode his bike at heart-attack speed, and I swore I smelled weed.

That day, I grabbed a plate from her hand, “You can’t stay here,
we don’t allow overnight guests.” Who was I kidding?
I let the fun last for months and now I was playing the heavy.

She looked devastated. Eight months pregnant, she packed & left.
When her water broke the next day, I felt conflicted.
Later, after their break up, I clutched my grandbaby to my chest.

That’s when it hit. You can throw box after box at problems.
Or pray they’ll go away. But some things just happen, whether you want
them or not. And sooner or later, life breaks your heart