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Dec 27, 2007

A silly ditty

Twas the day after Christmas
And all through the trailer
The smells of the feast
Smelled staler and staler

Mama in her kerchief,
And I in my cap
Were just headed out
To the mall, and a snack.

When the little blond girl,
Eyes bright and blue
With golden soft hair
Started screaming, "Me too!"

Protesting was useless
The babe had her way
And mama went looking
For her cap right away

When what to my wondering
Eyes should be seen
But tiny bug creatures
In her hair, yet unseen.


















Mama, I hollered
Right in her face.
"There's creatures a crawling
All over the place.

She nodded yes, with
Big eyes full of pain
She looked and she squinted
Then fell in a faint.

"Its probably those cousins,
Those kids of your brothers
I doubt they take baths,
Or even their mothers

That brought her round
As I new that it would.
But suddenly I scratched
just as hard as I could.

Every square inch
Of my body, it seemed
Was crawling and itching!
My God, there on me!!

I screamed so loudly
They heard me next door.
And Mama, dear Mama
Still wept on the floor.















Dammit, oh, dammit
I shouted with grief.
Head lice in my house!
I ran for the bleach.

Come here little girl,
With the hair long and soft,
Come here to Papa!
She quickly ran off!

No, shouted Mama,
Stretched out on the floor
Who likewise was scratching
Like never before.

I swear if I ever
Get invaded again
Let it be the Russians
Or Iraqis or Fins.

Fins?, questioned Mama.
How slowly she moved.
I could see in her face
All the work left to do.

The washing, the spraying
Then catching the girl
With the long yellow hair
The lice in her curls.

"We'll go to the store
They sell that stuff there
We'll tell them we're buying
For the church's health fair."













Well, come on, I said runnin'
Quick to the door.
I hate to be itching.
I felt like a whore.

Your brother, I started
"Oh, no, not a word!"
Said Mama, so sternly
I hushed. "Come on girl."

We're going, we're leaving
You best come with us
There, that's a good girl
Now don't make a fuss.

So off to the mall
In the car we did pile
I itched all the way
long Mile after mile.

We bought some lice lotion
And little lice combs
We bought lice spray
And we took it all home.

We washed and we showered
We combed and we sprayed
And then close to midnight
We called it a day.

Now I must warn you
Dear readers out there.
Don't be fooled by these
Girls with long golden hair.

They can be lousy
And spiteful and dirty
On the day after Christmas!
At least dear Aunt Girty

Didn't make it this year
She stays clear to Easter,
You know. I guess there is a God.

5 comments:

Babzy said...

LOVE IT! Only YOU could or would write a Christmas poem about LICE. I'm crying. You are one talented lady. LOL

alphonsedamoose said...

Babzy said it perfectly. What more can I add?

eric1313 said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
eric1313 said...

They do suck. And itch. And bite. And don't rock.

We caught them from the poor kids who lived down the block.

It was bad...

Now if you'll excuse me, I've to jump in the shower...

the bugs really bother me--they have a strange power.

To jump through the internet, they're bite is quite scary,

Even if they're not here, they're one shitty memory...

just me said...

Doesn't just the idea of lice or mites get you itching all over? Its a universal thing, I believe. It won't be bacteria that get the martians, it will be bugs!!