Einstein, relating to quantum mechanics and chaos,
Famously uttered, “God does not play dice.”
Dylan, anticipating eagerly, the night before his football party,
Sincerely prayed,” I hope that the weather will be nice.”
In an array of unnatural bright red, orange and blue,
Bottles of Gatorade were chilled on ice.
Inspired by football heroics from Super Bowls past,
My son dreamed to catch like Jerry Rice.
Then a calamity struck while I kissed him goodnight,
Ten minutes before his bedtime, to be precise.
Something in his hair looked highly suspicious,
“Oh, Lord, I need some professional advice…”
What happened next was a comical nightmare,
Our angelic Dylan had fallen from his paradise.
Being totally inexperienced and clueless,
We scurried and panicked like three blind mice.
Falling asleep with tears on his rosy cheeks,
He woke and howled hysterically more than twice.
Someone had to sleep with the grief stricken child–
Guess who decided to make that self-sacrifice.
At dawn, the sky was mysteriously dark and aloof,
A list of numbers was printed to be dialed at sunrise.
The red and black tee shirts lay motionlessly,
Along with the rolled flags and other merchandise–
All on the account of some lice.