I’m not very hungry

I’m not very hungry, but everyone knows
if you want to be thin
you really must get your breakfast in

I’m not very hungry, I had a McMuffin
but it’s important to have a healthy snack
like a sweet apple…prevents heart attacks

I’m not very hungry, we had an office party
I didn’t want to be rude so I had cake before my entree,
skipped my veggies and ate in a hurry

I’m not very hungry, ‘cuz on the way homeIMG_1017
My belly was grumbling (for pizza with the works)
picked up a slice, now my stomach’s berserk

I’m not very hungry, was too full for salad
That’s a good sign, this really is working!
(until I sat up snacking and watching videos of people twerking)

I’m not very hungry, woke up with a full belly
Hmmm…I don’t think it’s true after all about breakfast
Without it I would have eaten less, and been MORE hungry!

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Over the River – Thanksgiving Parody

In honor of the upcoming Thanksgiving Holiday, I think we ought to have ourselves a good laugh. Enjoy this heartwarming, cautionary tale of a classic family meal.

Over the Top and Through the Food

Over the top and and through the food
to Grandma’s table we go
We know it’s too much
we glut and stuff
our diets completely blown

Over the top and through the food
Oh, how family annoys us so!
They sting our pride
We stuff some pie,
I wonder who’s gonna blow?

Over the top and through the food
Can you make it just one day?
Another jab from Aunt Madeline,
Zing-a-zing-zing!
Hurrah for Thanksgiving Day!

Over the top and through the food,
Twitters are all the same!
Comfort in knowing
We’re all line-towing,
For this is Thanksgiving Day.

Over the top and through the food,
What a time to announce you’re gay.
Dad is working
on his scotch~
Dinner will have to wait!

Over the top and through the food~
Now for the dishes I sigh!
Hurrah for work!
To get away from that jerk.
Hurrah you survived this time!

The Original:

Over the River and Through the Woods

Over the river and through the wood
To Grandmother’s house we go.
The horse knows the way
To carry the sleigh
Through white and drifted snow.

Over the river and through the wood
Oh, how the wind does blow!
It stings the toes
And bites the nose,
As over the ground we go.

Over the river and through the wood
To have a first-rate play.
Hear the bells ring,
Ting-a-ling-ling!
Hurrah for Thanksgiving Day!

Over the river and through the wood,
Trot fast, my dapple gray!
Spring over the ground
Like a hunting hound,
For this is Thanksgiving Day.

Over the river and through the wood,
And straight through the barnyard gate.
We seem to go
Extremely slow~
It is so hard to wait!

Over the river and through the wood~
Now Grandmother’s cap I spy!
Hurrah for fun!
Is the pudding done?
Hurrah for the pumpkin pie!

“I’m too ired”

“I’m too ired” said the child,
using the day’s last bit of energy.
“I can barely crawl to my bed tho’ it’s in sight
and prop one eye open for my story.”

“I’m too ired for bathing and bubbles
I’d rather go to bed grubby.
Skip the scrubbing, go right to snuggling
I’m too ired to even say the T.”

What is IT?

What is IT? It’s hard to know.
To know IT, you must listen close.

Like when someone says they’ve got IT,
does it mean they understand?

You may yell “I’ve got IT!” when you’re catching balls.
Or are you warning others you may have caught a cold?

So many meanings for one word,
it’s no wonder other languages think we’re mad.

They will surely lose IT trying to understand.
You’re wondering now if I will get to IT

Or if I’m very with IT,
to write a poem about IT.

Has someone already done IT?
What a silly concept, to write about IT.

Well IT is lots of things,
as luck would have IT.

Refers to anything,
that’s the size of IT.

This is lots of fun,
isn’t IT?

Granny Rally

Photo credit where credit is due.

Photo credit where credit is due.

Here’s the final, kid-approved version, from a previous post entitled “Look Who’s at the Rally!” I had to get through my almost 8-year-old editor.

Granny Rally (Take 3)

Ladies and gentlemen get on your feet, in comes the granny rally!
They’ve come from miles and miles, ready to ride, Cadillac style
Line ’em up and watch ’em go, those V8’s will put on a show.
Now they’re off, sharp turn ’round the bend, rev it up and back again.
Grandma Elsie’s in the lead, but Grandma Cathy is looking mean
Coming up from behind, she zips in front, doing fine.
It’s Grandma Cathy for the win, with family cheering, she takes her spin.

Granny Rally Take 2!

Please see edit notes and redo below. According to my editor, this was all wrong.

At the hot rod rally,  cars with chrome are right at home. Exhaust pipes fire, squeallin’ tires. Gears turning, rubber burning. That’s the usual fun, but look out muscles, you’ve got competition.

Move aside and part the seas, in comes the granny rally! They come from miles, all Cadillacs and smiles. Silent and stealthy, looky there it’s Grandma Elsie! Line ’em up and watch ’em go, those V8’s will put on a show. Lots of horsepower and a cushy seat makes grandma’s ride the one to beat!

August 18 late pm: I was told by my son this was all wrong. Apparently I should have left out any reference to the hot rod rally. He asked me what all that zooming vrooming was (i.e. tires burning etc. – hey I’ve never used i.e. and etc in the same sentence) and shook his head with a pregnant pause, (quite a long pregnant pause). He said it should have been just the granny rally, with descriptions of obstacles in their course, and their families cheering them in the stands. He said the ending just dropped off and I should have made it a gradual decline and announced his grandma’s win at the end. OK, I’ve got some work to do. Granny Rally is an idea I came up with after attending a rally in our town. Those Devilles are everywhere, and they are serious cars. My own Mom has one and let’s just say she’s safer in it than those around her on the road!  He thought it was a hilarious idea and we’ve been joking about it for weeks. So, here goes (ZZzzzz I want to be sleeping!)

The Granny Rally (Take 2)

Ladies and gentlemen get on your feet, in comes the granny rally!
They’ve come from miles, ready to ride Cadillac style
Racing for their families who’re packed in the stands abundantly.
Line ’em up and watch ’em go, those V8’s will put on a show.
Now they’re off, sharp turn around the bend, through the bumpers and back again.
Grandma Elsie’s in the lead, but Grandma Cathy is looking mean
Coming up from behind, she’s zips in front, doing fine.
It’s Grandma Cathy for the win, with family cheering she takes her victory spin.

I’m sure I’ll be sent back for more editing, but we’ll see what he thinks in the morning.

I Can’t Buy 55

“Are you at least 55?” she automated.

“What?” I think, I stutter. Maybe it was out loud, I don’t know. I have never been asked if I’m in my fifties. Until just a few years ago I was asked for my identification to enter bars. I am 42-years-old. Before I allow myself to be offended, I allow my senses to register the flat tone with which she delivered the offending question, the blank stare. The setting, The Dollar Store. We are buying a $1 dollar toy, my 7-year-old son and I.

“What?” I implore, my senses stunned, now recovering. I focus my gaze on her face, searching. Is it an automatic question at the Yankee Dollar Store? Do I appear older than I am? For a second I realize she looks older than she should for a young girl, the years of a hard life reveal her future. I am detective, seeking information, some bit of rational thought to lessen the blow of this devastating question.

“Are you at least 55 years old?” she repeats. My pride hastily answers for me, “No.” With that information she is able to proceed and turn her attention back to the mechanics of completing the sale. I would say she turned her eyes away from me, but it would be more apt to say they just fell away, eased back into their listless stare.

“Wait,” I command. “Is that for a discount?”

She glances in my direction, a barely perceptible confirmation that yes, she is offering me a senior discount, and I can see I’ve caused her great discomfort to look back at me. She was thinking about her own life troubles, her job at Yankee Dollar, how many minutes until her next cigarette break. She does not perceive me or my youthful vigor, she is unseeing.

“I should have said I am…at least 55-years-old,” I offer, cheerfully. The confusion on her face tells me this is not a joke she gets. There is a half-question on her face, the semblance of confusion in her now inwardly turned eyes. It does not take much to make a turtle hide in its shell. I release her from this state by explaining I need to shop with an older friend to get the discount. I crack a smile, she completes the sale.

I realize I would have just sold my pride for a discount on a dollar item. Oh well, next time.

Grow Up

When I grow up I will not sit too long talking at the table.
I will get a candy bar in the grocery checkout
and eat cake before dinner.
I will sweep the dirt under the rug instead of getting the dust mop
and stay home from school sometimes.
I will watch cartoons instead of news.
When I go on a trip, I will run to the beach and unpack later.
If I’m enjoying a book I will stay up and enjoy it.
When I grow up, I hope I don’t.
What will you do, when you don’t grow up too?