Everyone wanted me to publish this one, but here is the deal. I did not feel like condensing it, cutting things or otherwise changing the words or beat I had just to sell it. If you study it hard, you will see the progression beat of words I used, the form I held to, and held fast to. Others miss it, never seeing it. Which some say is good, and others say is bad. I could care less, I was out to tell the story, and have a laugh while doing it. Enjoy it, pass it on but give me credit, send donations in small-unmarked bills, send kudos, comments and thumbs up. But most of all, try not to break your Mom's version... she may smack you.
It started small
back when I toddled around
bouncing off furniture, over railings and other obstacles
seeking to learn co-ordination so fine, and failing miserably
Never quite killing myself, missing the mark.
It snowballed more
as a sibling joined me
in roaming from disaster to disaster quick
sometimes staging competing ones that brought that cry
"One Disaster at a Time, I Say!"
Mom was frazzled
by the many emergency trips
but at least the hospital offered help
in the form of a bulk rate payment plan
to ease the burdens just a bit.
We forced mom to make the Rule we still oft break
with our constant succession of childhood accidents and near daily disasters.
So she came out at last with the dreaded Rule One!
Tyranny it seemed
to me and my sister
to be bound by rules so untenable
that even our aunts and uncles had to chuckle
as mom called it out each time.
So it went
as we grew into teens
and more disasters came each passing moon
that mom would invoke her call loud and firm
as we blithely ignored her strident warnings.
Things never settled
as the litany was built
of injuries, blunders, wrecks and heart attacks
added by dad getting in on the action late
but making up in seriousness it seemed.
So we go on breaking Mom's greatest request she heartily made,
staging our disasters in chain reactions, or simultaneous ways.
All in defiance of her constant loud invoking of Rule One!
Oh, we cared
but we were all clumsy.
Or how else can you really explain
the day I burnt my hand upon a lawnmower muffler
as Sis, creek wading, cut her foot!
That was it,
the final straw lain down
upon mom's back like the proverbial camel's.
She finally got mad, and wrote the call down
so she could point to it and say...
"One Disaster, Please,
at a time my children
and all must be scheduled and approved
at least three years in advance to be permitted
even then, last minute veto is allowed!"
Oh, she tried so hard to keep us alive and well
despite our wandering around like chickens with heads lopped half off
with her contribution to better mothering, the ever dreaded Rule One!
It's catching on
now through the whole family
as I hear it from cousins to their kids
and my sister, always the last to be injured
took it to heart over my nieces!
The last holdout
is the first and greatest
of klutzes in family folklore to date
oh, I beat the family's previous generation in stupidity
trying to move the firehouse by bicycle!
Over the years
things still happen despite trying
not to make mom give that cry
Loudly and firmly, or some times with streaming tears
of "One disaster at a time, please".
We have taken it up, in our generation as well now
as her grandchildren play out the curse she called some times
as our payment for having broken her personal dictum, Rule One!
Oh, yes, we pay, and now see error in our ways
as we grew up so carefree and clumsy in those days!
And on our own walls lies a plaque with Rule One!
Oh, now we enforce, that which we broke, Mom's Rule One!
(2011 - Dyfedd Rex)
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