The Day The Children Made Dinner

Three curious minds
prepared our goldfish,
Bubbles looked crispy
when I saw the dish.

I was in the bathroom
with the door shut,
I finished and flushed
and hollered out "What?"

My children shouted
that dinner was done,
A feeling beyond walk
is a prompting to run.

There was a proud look
on every young face,
I noticed that bubbles
was not in his place.

An empty aquarium
lead my eyes to see,
The experience of cooking
done by my three.

My children had used
the microwave oven,
They nuked our pet fish
meant only for lovin'

My stomach fluttered
with a sick feeling,
Bubbles was gone
and it was unappealing.

A child is curious
and in many ways sweet,
But, beware their desire
to cook fishbowl meat.