Read by Sara Hickman
We walk into Mother's cafe like we usually do
And hear the waiter from behind the counter that’s blue,
He says, “I’ll be right with you.”
My stomach does flips as my mother tells me,
“Hey look! It’s Michael Phelpsie!
Michael! Michael! The man of my dreams,
My secret crush along with his swim team.
He comes to our table with a bottle of wine,
Then chugs it down, as we dine!