Robert Ippaso

Turin, Italy

When she’s sick I’m so in trouble. In the words of a hapless husband

When she’s sick I’m so in trouble
Rocks my world, bursts my bubble,
All at once my head is spinning,
Forehead aching, hair fast thinning.

I’m not trained to handle chores,
Clean the house, go to stores,
Cook the meals, feed the kids,
My existence on the skids.

Give me patience, show me how
She won’t quickly disavow
This poor man she claimed to love
And not give him one huge shove.

I’ll do better, I’ll learn fast,
Even try to make it last,
Wash the sheets, make the bed,
Just the thought fills me with dread.

Shoulders back, chin protruding,
Smile so wide, no more brooding,
‘Yes, My Dear’ the sure answer,
Float on air like a tap dancer.

Read her cues as if an actor
Whatever challenge not a factor,
Learn each job just like a pro,
Then recount it blow by blow.

I adore this girl so much,
There’s truly nothing I won’t touch,
Clean or fix around the house
To be that perfect loving spouse.

But God I pray with all my soul
That soon you make her fully whole,
Please start now and make it fast
As for sure I won’t long last.
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