Boomerangs

After hyperventilating

at the apocalyptic mess

in girlchild's room, the floor

laden with crafts half-

done and clothes half-

worn we together

resolved on a plan for a tidier space.

Our reconnaissance mission

to a store called Boomerangs

for the elusive desk

with drawers.

We purchased a solid oak

grand dame of drawers,

loaded with the help of brawny workers, so kind.

On our way home, boychild asked

if he could watch YouTubes on

"How to pick a lock," since

he said that might be useful in his future.

Back home

Husband paused, no words

reminded me, third floor 

aloft, winding narrow stairwells

this monster 

bedroom imposter must be returned.

Boomeranging to Boomerangs I found her majesty had no match, elected instead to accept store credit and a sequined hooded sweatshirt from Justice, the balance of justice here lacking as it will be if boychild ever tries to pick a lock to his sister's room which may well remain apocalyptic until the very end.