Maybe Monday

Maybe someday,
my husband will come home,
whisk me off to an art supplies store,
buy me a canvas, paintbrushes,
and some acrylic paint,
and then oohed and aahed
as I created a masterpiece
beyond compare
that sold for a million dollars
so that I'd never have to worry
about paying the bills again?

Maybe someday,
my husband will come home,
with a hilarious story to tell,
and once he was done telling it,
told me to write it down,
only better,
and as I sat at the desktop,
typing until my fingers went numb,
he oohed and aahed at my work
on a novel which eventually
sold for a million dollars
so that I'd never have to worry
about paying the bills again?

Maybe someday.

Until then, back to school I go, for real this time.