Mistaken Identity

When I called my daughter, “Daisy!”
she looked like I was crazy;
in my multitasking fog
I’d summoned not her, but the dog.

I know moms who’ve done the same –-
called a kid by his pet’s name –
or, to make it even worser,
done exactly the vice-versa:
yelled for daughter or for son
when she meant the furry one.

Have I so much on my plate
that I can’t keep their names straight?
Still, the worst (or worser-ish)
would be mistaking kid for fish.
Especially, it must be said,
if – like ours – said fish were dead.

©2010 Carlotta Eike Stankiewicz