Eulogy

I swear, this is what I'll say at his funeral:

When there was a teeny bit of shampoo
remaining in the bottle, he added water
and left behind the diluted residue.
This was deceiving. When I went to take a shower,
I would think I was squeezing gel into my hair.
Really, I'd be unleashing
a frigid waterfall.

No matter how many times I told him not to
unless he was planning to fold them himself,
he took all the clothes out of the dryer
and threw them on our bed.

It was as if every night Jesus said
"drop your nets right here,"
and the nets came up groaning.
There were too many fish.
Who on earth was going to eat them?

One day, can you believe it,
he burned two bagels in a row to a crisp.
I mean, to a crisp.

He had a thing about putting away leftovers.
He was especially solicitous
of the stuffed zucchini..
"We can get two more meals out of this,"
he'd announce precisely,
"and then there will only be enough
for one of us."