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# Whatever
- URL: https://dianaludwick.com/whatever/
- Published: 2026-02-05T19:50:31.000Z
- Updated: 2026-10-24T20:12:05.000Z
- Description: “Whatever,” written February 5, 2026, poem 036 in a series of 365 poems written by Diana Ludwick in 2026. Photo: "Two Cracked Eggs in Pyrex," by Diana Ludwick (c) 2026.
- Author: Diana Ludwick
- Tags: 2026 Poetry Challenge, Poems, #Migrated-1792872215677, #wp, #wp-post, #Import 2026-10-24 20:03

The deep sigh   
overwhelms the kitchen   
like a detonated bomb  
progressing into a huff   
that demands attention  
  
I slide my eyes sideways to see  
what aggrieves her this time  
  
*You’re using my burner!*   
She scoffs  
  
I glimpse the disputed induction   
ring near my gathered ingredients   
and with feigned composure  
drawn from a dwindling reserve   
I share my rationale:  
  
You’ll notice that I had  
my mise en place prepared   
next to the front left  
to give you extra space   
and more heating power  
on the right of the stove  
I reply.  
  
She doubles down  
in lieu of logic  
*I need that one!*   
  
So, there are four others  
to choose from  
I gave you space to pick—  
  
*Ugh WHATEVER!*   
She turns and leaves  
  
In her wake  
a forlorn a Pyrex cup   
of broken eggs  
and a clattered fork   
on the bench.  
  
In the uneasy silence   
I return my presence to  
this morning moment  
my last chance  
at peace   
before a hectic day  
  
I heat a one quart pan  
pour in A-2 milk from US farms  
sprinkle in rolled quinoa from Bolivia  
and pink Himalayan salt   
and a palmful of golden   
California raisins   
(no thick-rimmed shades detected)   
then close my eyes  
  
Deep breath in  
1 2 3 4 5 6  
Hold  
1 2 3 4 5 6  
Exhale  
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8.  
  
My porridge comes to a boil  
I scoop hot lava into a shallow bowl  
Scatter the top   
with plump chunks of translucent   
Naval orange from Florida  
and flakey sea salt from Maldon  
and pats of butter from Ireland  
to balance the glycemic load  
and let's be honest  
to make this pale gruel tasty.  
  
Burner’s ready, love! Pick your favorite!  
I call up to her.  
  
*WHATEVER!!*   
She shouts back.  
  
With pressed lips  
I sit and inhale the fragrance   
of saline and citrus   
revived grapes and molten fat  
  
The first spoonful warms   
my quiet throat like a hug  
  
The squish and pop   
of juice vesicles explode   
like miniature fireworks  
bringing cheer and  
the winter sun   
creeps up my shoulder  
  
Our home thrums with   
heat pump ambient rhythm  
  
I could be disgruntled   
with my child from Maryland  
But the mother duck in me  
engages my waterproof feathers  
to repel teen zings  
down and off my frame  
like drops of chilly water  
  
Because   
in this micro melee  
I too choose  
*Whatever.*