When it’s 9:48 p.m. and the kids are asleep and you realize you’ve spent the entire night on your phone

But listen, there was a crucial thread on Twitter—
a debate about whether Full House is a fair portrayal of grief. There’s an Instagram account, too, about using
cling wrap to blend your makeup, and another one about feeding
a midwestern family of ten: this lady is making the biggest casseroles.
Economy-sized Velveeta, mushroom soup for days.
Show me an evening that’s better than 140 tater tots
arranged in concentric circles.
(Amazing! Like something from Versailles.)

And yes, the retired man at the playground today waved
to my toddler and told me to: “Enjoy it! It goes so fast!”
Then he watched my child play for 45 full minutes,
which is way too long, retired man,
even if you’re struck by The Memories.

He’s right though, because my 4-year-old said “furthermore” today
and my toddler’s outgrowing his raincoat.
Their bodies absorb the time we waste;
every August they are taller.
And I think of the friend who told me about growing
up in Tennessee, how he and his brother would toss sugar
cubes to the raccoons, then turn on the sprinkler.
They’d watch those poor animals rinse
their food until it dissolved.

Did that really happen to my friend?
Or did he just watch that viral TikTok about
the raccoon washing cotton candy? The way the sugar slipped
and vanished—The Atlantic said it was a metaphor for … something.

In any case, here we are, lost on the couch
while the smoke-pink sun drops.
Somewhere in Missouri, an oven timer dings—
all of us fussing with the nothing between our paws.