In honor of mothers and grandmas everywhere I dedicate this poem
Girls, get out there—and what you’re made of—you show ‘em.
(With some food nuances, of course)
‘Twas the morning of Mother’s Day, as I lay in my bed
Anticipating the day’s festivities blending in my head.
“You look beautiful Grandma!” Timmy will scream in my ear.
“I may be slow as molasses, but I’m not deaf, my dear.”
“Oh, sorry Grandma,” his face will turn red as a beet.
He’ll say, “Daddy says you never listen…umm, can I get you something to eat?”
Jenny, my granddaughter, yells “You sure are a meanie!”
“Timmy, get me a drink,” I’ll say, “Make it a martini!”
That child and his sister; like two peas in a pod.
They think I understand their stories, but usually I smile and just nod.
Do I care about the Invaders of the Battleship Teak?
I’m really just steamed they only visit me once a week.
I know they’re busy and in the shop is their car.
My prescription’s been ready at the pharmacy; I guess walking 3 miles isn’t too far. (In the snow, with no shoes.)
I’ll first have breakfast like a king for energy
And dinner like a pauper, Dr. Oz says that’s the key
To good health, and proper digestion, and a happy long life
Ooo, that Dr. Oz, a tall drink of water, he is. I wonder if he has a wife?
Cool as a cucumber, I’ll act with my family today.
Though in my mind, I’m thrilled they asked me to stay.
I haven’t slept in this house since my dear Stanley was here.
My Stanley, sweet as candy, but oh the gas from his rear!
I’ll head to the kitchen to enjoy the family ties
All making breakfast…they are the apples of my eyes.
As I enter, they seem nervous, they must think I’m about to get preachy.
But I turn on my agreeable self, and say, “Everything is just peachy.”
No guilt or opinions I’ll offer today.
I know which side my bread is buttered on, no fool is Grandma on Mother’s Day.
We see them rolling their eyes, don’t you all concur?
But you catch more flies with honey, than with vinegar.
I know this logically, yet sometimes I get in a jam.
No filter on my thoughts, and out comes the slam.
I don’t mean to criticize, really, and that’s no bull.
I’m not a glass-half-empty gal, truly, I’m a glass half full.
But as I get older, they think it will never stop.
Who cares? I’m entitled—I’m the cream of the crop!
I’ve got wisdom, I’ve got experience, and about me I’ve got my wits.
To my family I can teach, “Life is like a box of chocolates.”
You never know what you’ll get in life—it’s a crap shoot, as they say.
Enjoy this special time together, and I wish for you all a very happy Mother’s Day.
Until Next Time,