All my cans are in the special bin.
All my glass and bottles, too.
I to save the Earth from trash.
So why can’t I recycle you?
Relationships
Dying Battery Blues
Dying smoke detectors will beep beep beep.
This of course while I was trying to sleep.
I heard it dying, yet beeping away.
Saying, “Your wife should have fixed this yesterday.”
Simple fix – she took the battery out.
But then the alarm began to pout.
Pouting is a long anguished scream.
It is worse than a battery out of steam.
No more napping time will it allow
It wants a battery and it wants it now.
We had an extra one on hand.
Or it would be buried in the sand.
Everyone else went back to bed.
I will go to work sleepy instead.
The smoke alarm doesn’t make a peep.
Which is certainly better than beep beep beep.
Sea Shanty Italiano
Sea shanties are always about the sea. This is, of course, unfair. There are plenty of worthy subjects for sea shanties, and plenty of other occupations (say, cooking or gossip) where having a way to keep a group in rhythm would be helpful.
To the tune of Drunken Sailor
What do you do with a Wife Italian?
What do you do with a Wife Italian?
What do you do with a Wife Italian,
Sometime late mid-morning?
Way, hey, it needs more garlic!
Way, hey, it needs more garlic!
Oy vey, it needs more garlic,
Sometime late mid-morning!
Don’t wake her up or she might cut you!
Don’t wake her up or she might cut you!
Don’t wake her up or she might cut you,
Sometime late mid-morning!
Way, hey, it needs more garlic!
Way, hey, it needs more garlic!
Oy vey, it needs more garlic,
Sometime late mid-morning!
Wake up the dogs, and let them wake her!
Wake up the dogs, and let them wake her!
Wake up the dogs, and let them wake her,
Sometime late mid-morning!
Way, hey, it needs more garlic!
Way, hey, it needs more garlic!
Oy vey, it needs more garlic,
Sometime late mid-morning?
Quiet in the house, let’s watch her stories!
Quiet in the house, let’s watch her stories!
Quiet in the house, let’s watch her stories,
Sometime late mid-morning?
Way, hey, it needs more garlic!
Way, hey, it needs more garlic!
Oy vey, it needs more garlic,
Sometime late mid-morning!
Time for the news, let’s call her sisters!
Time for the news, let’s call her sisters!
Time for the news, let’s call her sisters,
Sometime late mid-morning!
Way, hey, it needs more garlic!
Way, hey, it needs more garlic!
Oy vey, it needs more garlic,
Sometime late mid-morning!
Read another book by Nora Roberts!
Read another book by Nora Roberts!
Read another book by Nora Roberts,
Sometime late mid-morning!
Way, hey, it needs more garlic!
Way, hey, it needs more garlic!
Oy vey, it needs more garlic,
Sometime late mid-morning!
Visit Amazon, and buy her trinkets!
Visit Amazon, and buy her trinkets!
Visit Amazon, and buy her trinkets,
Sometime late mid-morning!
Way, hey, it needs more garlic!
Way, hey, it needs more garlic!
Oy vey, it needs more garlic,
Sometime late mid-morning!
Feed her an Eggplant Parmigiana!
Feed her an Eggplant Parmigiana!
Feed her an Eggplant Parmigiana,
Sometime late mid-morning!
Way, hey, it needs more garlic!
Way, hey, it needs more garlic!
Oy vey, it needs more garlic,
Sometime late mid-morning!
Douse her with water and watch her melting!
Douse her with water and watch her melting!
Douse her with water and watch her melting,
Sometime late mid-morning!
Way, hey, it needs more garlic!
Way, hey, it needs more garlic!
Oy vey, it needs more garlic,
Sometime late mid-morning!
What do you do with a Wife Italian?
What do you do with a Wife Italian?
What do you do with a Wife Italian,
Sometime late mid-morning?
Stress Kills
When Woman has a bad day,
Man hears about it.
Loud and long.
Man finds this stressful.
Stress is bad.
When Man has a bad day,
Women hear about it.
Loud and not so long.
Woman should find this stressful.
Instead, Man is then asked,
“Why are you blaming this on me?“
So, now, Man has work stress.
Also, he owes Woman an apology
For the crime of attempted stress.
Man must apologizing to Woman
For something Woman does to Man.
Man does not know how to apologize.
Man does not understand the issue.
This is extremely stressful.
Double stress is really bad.
Man drops dead of stress.
Woman says, “He was so young.”
Woman takes a cruise to relax.
She throws Man’s ashes overboard.
No more stress.
Woman has a bad day.
She goes shopping
With her inheritance.
Finds some goodies.
No more stress.
Insomnia
Every single night,
Between the dusk and dawn.
I wake up with a fright,
To find my lover gone.
Is she visiting the bathroom?
Did she go to poop or pee?
If so, she’ll be back soon.
Flushed with victory.
Could she not fall asleep?
Did she move to the recliner?
Did she find another cabin?
Am I on an ocean liner?
Did she go to walk the dog?
I heard no toenails on the floor.
Did she leave for someone else?
Does she not love me anymore?
Did she flee to see her sister?
Did I do something wrong?
That’s probably not the answer,
She wasn’t gone that long.
Did she need a midnight snack?
Perhaps she’s feeling yucky.
Was she murdered in her sleep?
I would never be that lucky.
Parenthood
Can someone hold my child?
I am so completely enraged,
I probably should not
Be near him currently.
There is a wide, black trail of
Instant Coffee, running from
My kitchen to the bedroom.
Across my new white carpet.
My husband said he calls it,
“The Trail of Tears.”
Someone should hold him, too.
In case this becomes a rampage.
Deep breaths.
Deep, cleansing breaths.
Maybe a glass of Chardonnay.
It’s better now. Somewhat.
It’s just a very messy line.
It will all come out in the wash.
It’s not really grounds for murder.
It’s not even grounds for divorce.
Grounds.
He he he he.
I crack me up.
I better start cleaning.
Country Klutz
Just got paid,
Got a brand new car.
Time to grab my baby,
Head to the ER.
Gonna ask her Momma,
Have to ask my Dad,
“Do you think it’s broken?”
“‘Cause she’s limpin’ real bad.”
Time to get married,
Gonna get her a ring.
Just as soon as a doctor
Inspects that wasp sting.
Today’s at the orthopedist,
Hopping through the door.
I have a bad case of deja vu,
‘Cause we’ve been here before.
When she hears or sees an insect,
She’ll attempt a triple lutz.
She’s on the ground, whimpering.
I’m married to a klutz.
Grandparents
A grandmother wants control of her title.
Choosing what she is called seems vital.
Some will never be “Grams” or “Granny.”
They want to be called “MomPlus” or “Sammy.”
Grandfathers don’t really seem to care.
Since we get called random terms here and there.
I have been “Grandpa”, “Papa”, “Grampy”, so to speak.
All of those were just in the past week.
Next time, I’ll have another name.
I will probably have myself to blame.
I said my name was King Frank-Bob.
We’ll see if that’s accepted by the mob.
I answer to the term my grandkids choose,
Either good or bad, win or lose.
Call me a saint or call me a sinner.
Just don’t call Grandpa late for dinner.
Times
Thinking of all the times in my life.
There’s early.
There’s on time.
Then, there’s the wife.
Strings
I found an old guitar,
Up in the attic at my Mom’s.
She said it was my Grandpa’s.
He would play it on the lawn.
I never knew he had one.
I never knew he played.
Yet, I could almost hear him,
As I saw the strings were frayed.
I took it from the attic,
I had it cleaned and tuned.
I tried to learn to play it.
I wanted music to resume.
I wonder if he wrote a song.
I wonder what he played.
I’d like to sing it with him.
My memories ceased to fade.
When you’re listening to a concert,
Watching some now famous star,
You should think about his Grandpa.
And wonder if he played guitar.