Not seething, and I'm not mad that they both found women who ask for less, who do less, who ARE less.
oohh huffity puffity, sniggle with a hmph!
she stamped off the page in a righteous old grump.
with waves in her hair and a glare like a rake,
she muttered .. 'oh please, screw off, and kiss my white pancakes'
she flounced and she bounced down a sass spotted lane,
with syrupy scorn and a clattery brain.
'TL DR' she cried, with a theatrical prance,
'i've said what i've said .. now sod off, no chance!'
so off she went muttering, head held high,
with flapjacks of fury and a side-eye to all nearby.
a catty farewell, both silly and frank:
'good day to you, sir - now go kiss my keister-pancake!'
&&
'i'm not mad, not cross, not fuming at all,'
said samantha, calm as a teacup so small.
no steam, no smoke, not a hiss or a clatter
'im fine, im just fine, its really no matter.'
but she pointed one finger, then wiggled it twice,
with a grin that was sugary, frosty, and ice.
"me? oh no no, im cool as can be .. "
"but you, my dear friend? you are big mad" said she.
big mad with a capital b-i-g mad,
with a stomp and a scowl and a face going plaid.
so samantha just skipped with a shrug and a sway,
'not mad!' she sang softly, and danced on her way.