Proctology Final Exam

You have accomplished much to date.
You’ve passed all the exams,
You were never late.

There remains one final test.
It’s been called unfair by some,
But it’s really for the best.

Before you perform your first exam,
One important detail remains.
So your patients don’t scram.

Quickly now! We shall not linger.
We merely check the length and width.
Please present your index finger.

My Year So Far

February was my 20th Anniversary.
We were going for a cruise.
So, in January, I broke my foot.
Oh, plus my ankle, too.
Cruise canceled.
Well, next year is 21.
That's almost the same.
Staying home. 
Avoiding all others.
Well, it will be over by May.
May, when we visit grandkids.
Wait. What?
Scrap that trip.
We have a Christmas cruise.
Yes, I know about cruises.
I'm not hopeful.
2019 kinda sucked.
2020 said, "Hold my beer."
I'm too old for this.
March, I was out of the splint.
I was out of the cast.
I was into a boot.

So, now I can travel.
It's my 60th birthday.
Time for a road trip.
Wait. What?

Vertigo

I wasn’t sure who I should call,
The fourth time that I hit the wall.

I laid there, staring at the valance,
Waiting to regain my balance.

My sense of balance really stunk,
Yet, for once, I wasn’t drunk.

The therapist said my crystals fell,
Off the rods my ears held so well.

(I knew eventually crystals would be an involved.)

My wife suspected that I had a stroke.
In the lonely night, just before I awoke.

But with a stroke, I wouldn’t only miss the bed.
With a stroke, I would have woke up dead.

So, a nautical lesson, as I slip.
One hand for me, one for the ship.

When I’m home, and not out sailing,
It’s time to go install some railing.

My grandkids’ and my worlds collide,
Because we both can slip and slide.

I just find it very wrong,
To be diagnosed with a U2 song.

(At least, I wasn’t diagnosed with Mysterious Ways.)

My Beloved, the Non-Weeble

Editor’s Note: Weebles wobble, but they don’t fall down. So, my wife is not a Weeble. Some people are just accident-prone. I know one of them. She married me. Oy vey. This is in her voice, since that’s the only way it makes sense. You just have to imagine the cries of anguish at the end of each stanza. 

I think I’ll have a glass of tea.
Ouch! I think I sprained my knee.

I was writing out my shopping list,
I stopped because I sprained my wrist.

The list said, “Ribs. At least a rack.”
Wow. I think that I just wrenched my back.

I filed the list in my to-do folder,
But now I may have popped my shoulder.

I turned on the TV and saw Bethenny Frankel,
Then dropped the remote and broke my ankle.

It’s Spring, we should be on a ship,
It’s just I may have strained my hip.

I reached to remove a piece of fluff,
And I think I tore my rotator cuff.

I know it’s time to feed the pup,
It’s just I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.

My husband said, “Hey, let’s get frisky!”
I said, “Oh, my God! That’s much too risky!”

My husband thinks he’s such a clown,
I’d hit him, but I’ve fallen down.

Again.

Morning Commute

To the tune of “Frere Jacques”

Road construction. Road construction.
LBJ. LBJ.
Seems to last forever. Seems to last forever.
In my way. In my way.

Diuretic, Diuretic
Makes you pee, Makes you pee.
Now I’m stuck in traffic, Now I’m stuck in traffic.
Woe is me. Woe is me.