Ice...Creamed!

Her man and she were getting on in years, I’m forced to say,

The two of them were speaking with a friend the other day,

Explained to him that they had problems with their memory,

And he said writing notes would help the wife and her Husby.

They decided they would try it out, and write things faithfully,

Improve communication ‘tween him and his Honeybee.

I’m here to say the trial could be labeled a success,

For though they spurned their friend’s advice, they were happy, nonetheless.

When sitting watching ‘telly’ Husby got up for ice cream,

Politely asked his wife if she would like to share the dream,

She said, “I’d like a bowlful, Dear. But you should write it down.”

He shook his head, “No I’ll remember. What am I, a clown?”

She shrugged and said she wanted toppings on her frozen treat.

Some whipped cream and a cherry, both, would make her bliss complete.

“And please, my dear,” she said again. “You’ve simply got to write.”

He said, “I think that I’m detecting just a note . . . of spite.”

And off he went, quite message-less, into the kitchen there.

And she heard fridge and cupboard doors as something was prepared.

When he’d spent some time, she thought, an inordinate amount,

At last returned. She looked at him. “What have you been about?”

He handed her a plate containing ham and scrambled eggs.

She stared at it, then up at him, and calmly crossed her legs.

And reaching for the plate, she said, “Your mind’s a sieve, at most!”

“And, my dear, you’re getting old, ‘cause you forgot the toast!”

Photo Credit: Karen of bakinginatornado.com

Cause Mondays do get knocked a lot,
With poetry, we all besought
To try to make the week begin
With gentle thoughts,
Perhaps a grin?
So Karen, Charlotte, Mimi, me
Have crafted poems for you to see.
And now you’ve read what we have wrought…
Did we help?
Or did we not?

Next week, we will dance and shout,

Cause MUSIC's what it's all about!

Thinking of joining us for Poetry Monday?

We'd love to welcome you!
Topics for the next few weeks (with a huge thank-you to Mimi, who comes up with so many of them!)...

Ice Cream (December 13) Today!

Music (December 20)

Fruitcake (December 27)

Sleep (January 3)

Peculiar People (January 10) 

Ditch Your New Year's Resolutions (January 17)

Opposite Day (January 24)

Typo Day (January 31) Celebrate those funny (autocorrect) mistakes. 

Pesky Tonsils!

Now

Then

My second oldest grandson just had his tonsils out.

Poor little guy.

But they were so huge that they made it difficult for him to swallow and were constantly getting infected.

There were perks.

For a week, he got to live on freezies and fruit pops and jello and things cold and wet.

Paradise.

He is feeling much better now.

And able to swallow, perhaps for the first time in his life.

Bless modern medicine.

It was day surgery. In and out.

The whole experience reminded me of my older brother, George.

Who had the same problem, fifty years ago.

Are we seeing a pattern, here?

George had a big appetite.

And a small throat.

He would chew and chew and chew on a piece of tender, wonderful roast beef.

Chew and chew and chew.

Then, finally, give up in despair and sit there, morosely, with a lump of meat in his mouth that he simply couldn't swallow.

My Dad took pity on him and told him to spit his mouthful into Dad's hand.

Which he did.

And which my Dad then disposed of.

Umm. Ick.

Then George would happily move on to the potatoes and gravy.

For a couple of years, the same scenario was played out at the Stringam dinner table.

George starting out with things chewy and delicious.

Then moving on to things mushy and easier to swallow.

Finally, it became so common that Dad didn't even get the chance to offer to help.

George would chew and chew and chew, then reach for Dad's hand and spit his mouthful into it.

Often without Dad realizing it.

Until it had happened.

Sort of hard to ignore then . . .

When he did it at a restaurant, my parents decided that something had to be done.

Checkup.

Diagnosis: large tonsils.

Solution: Removal.

Back then, though the operation was common, it meant several day's stay at the local hospital.

But with lots and lots of ice cream and jello.

Modern medicine has come so far.