My mom unearthed this goofy poem I wrote for her 66th birthday way back in 1997, and since it’s Mother’s Day, I thought I’d post it in her honor. She is now 81 and probably hoping for another poem from me sometime without any mention of cats and carpet.
So here’s a glimpse into the weirdness of our family, or maybe just the weirdness of my writing…
Ode to Mom
On the occasion of her 66th birthday
Someone we love is now 66–
Would someone please tell me how that happened so quick?
She seems only 30 or 40 or so,
But I guess that would have been some time ago.
The years have treated her very well
Why, it’s amazing she ain’t in a padded cell–
What with two special girls and four rotten boys,
And a husband who buys many woodworking toys.
The kids are all grown and moved far away
But that husband of hers seems to be there to stay.
They run here and run there doing auctions and such–
They must think “retire” means don’t stay home much.
She’s been catted and dogged ‘til she wanted to scream,
But deep down inside her, she’s not really mean.
She just didn’t care for the thousands of cats
That clawed at her legs when she threw out the scraps.
And she really did think that the kittens were cute
But what they did to the carpet, well, it made her puke.
(I know that is gross and a tiny bit tacky
But hey, when it rhymes, it’s okay to be wacky.)
Her children are parents now and when they are stressed
About the kids not behaving their best,
If you listen real closely, you can hear her say,
“Thank Heaven that’s over — I had my day!”
So Happy Birthday to you, we hope it was great–
Sorry your card and your present are late.
But I didn’t want to get something tacky or cheap,
So I wrote you a poem, a priceless treasure to keep!
Janice Powell 2013