Thursday, November 10, 2011

Overdoing It

'drank, hitch, muster'


I was never one for alcohol
Until I met Maureen;
She was the most delicious girl
That I had ever seen.
I had to get to know her;
I had to ask her out.
But I was a little weedy chap
And I was filled with doubt.
To muster up some courage
I drank a little drink
Of beer and wine and whiskey
And gin, which, of course, was pink.
I declared my overwhelming love
But then I struck a hitch!
The alcohol took over
And I ended in the ditch.
My Mother


I'm not a Number Cruncher; numbers don't appeal.
Though some are Number Munchers and enjoy them for a meal!
It's strains my little grey cells just to count above a ten!
And when I do I sigh and say' I won't go there again!'
Which is odd, because my mother loved numbers all her life;
She'd have much preferred accounting to being a stay-home wife.

Never 'allowed' to go out to work, she was tied to the kitchen sink,
Which was a waste of an agile brain that was crying-out to think!
For 'one brief shining moment' during the Second World War
 She told me she was happier than she'd ever been before;
She worked at an aircraft factory, doing accounts, of course,
As men were in the army or some other fighting force.
As soon as the War was over she was popped back in her box!
Women were made for bed and board and, maybe, pretty frocks.
But, unbeknown to her, her genes were lurking out of sight
Inside me, her daughter, so that made things all right.
I couldn't add or multiply; well, maybe just a bit,
But at algebra and geometry I certainly was no hit.

But, years later, I had a daughter; Rebecca is her name.
Just like my mother she finds crunching numbers just a game.
'It's lovely when it all works out!' she once said to me!
And, of course, she does accounting, so it's turned out beautifully.


 I'm the meat in the sandwich! Numbers are for the birds!

Give me a non-stop diet of words, words, words!

1 comment:

Margaret Gosden said...

I do like your take on how inheritance is passed down,
and how fate provided an opportunity for our mothers to excel in what they were really good at. If only modern educators would look at first what a child is really good at, and then plan his/her education around that ability. It took a war to free-up women, albeit too
late in life for many in those days.