It might have been Sunday evening
Suppertime after 6:00 p.m. church
The kids like their soup warm
My wife just likes soup
But I like hot soup
I take my bowl across the kitchen to the microwave
As it heats up I turn around and watch my family minus me
They don’t notice as I view their world from mine
Twelve feet away and out of sight everything looks so different
Just because I like hot soup
The kids joke and giggle and play with their food
I wonder if I am too serious or not stern enough
They make up words and languages and French
I wonder why I can’t say the things I should
And why do I like hot soup
The buzzer goes off and my mind jumps awake
Yes they are my family and I need to go back
Tell them the things I should
Have fun with them when I can
And every once in a while have a bowl of hot soup
—Joe Tolkamp
