RHYMING

I like to rhyme,
It saves time,
Out loud, not mime,
A wit sublime.

Oh boy, is that a bad one! A stinker some would say. I guess that’s why I’m not a poet or a writer, gainfully employed. I just write for myself and make up silly songs for our grandchildren, as I did for my beautiful daughter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

♫ Pick-les, on-ions, and gar-lic,
Pick-les, on-ions, and garlic,
Pick-les, on-ions, and gar-lic, ♫
Pick-les, on-ions, and garlic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Sung to the tune of “Someone’s in the kitchen with Dinah, someone’s in the kitchen I know-o-o-o, someone’s in the kitchen with Dinah, strummin’ on the old banjo.”)

Does Boots remember this? I’m not sure, but I’ve sung it for Alex. I don’t think I’ve sung it for Asher and Belle yet, but I can see it coming. Yup, no kidding, they have a grandma who’s silly to a fault. Can’t really help it and don’t want to. There’s just too much pleasure to be had from singing silly songs and seeing those sweet little faces crinkle up and grin or laugh out loud – or even roll their eyes and say, “Mama! That’s silly!”

When Alex was a baby, I used to sing the “Mama Loves You” song to him. I think he liked it. I would sing it to him when he was going to sleep:


Mama loves you, yes I do,
Mama loves you, yes I do,
Mama loves you, yes I do,
Sweet little baby boy.


And I would watch him close his eyes, his little lips opening and closing just the tiniest bit, and I would be filled with so much love – it was so hard to put him down to sleep. I would want to keep holding him forever.

When Boots was a baby, I used to do the same thing. I would hold her for hours watching her sleep. I just couldn’t get over the absolute miracle that she was (and still is). I would sing to her, talk to her, carry her from room to room while I did whatever it was I needed to do. She was three-years-old before we ever had a baby sitter; and was it ever hard to leave her!! I think I called home at least 4 times that night, and we were only gone a couple of hours.

But, I digress… let’s get back on point with rhyming.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a young boy from Vancouver,
Who said, “It’s hard to maneuver,”
When I park my truck,
I run over my duck,
And the quacker says, “Quack! Find a mover!”

Sometimes you just gotta rhyme, you just gotta! So here are three rhymes for our three most-loved grandchildren in the whole world:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Baby Belle,
You look swell,
You can really tell,
Where beauty doth dwell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Superhero Asher, dear boy of my heart,
Our love for you knows no bounds,
Your life is ahead with a jackrabbit start,
And happiness reigns all around.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh, Alex, my dear, my wonderful boy.
Such ideas race around in your mind,
You’re clever, you’re smart, your heart filled with joy,
You’re handsome, you’re loved, and you’re kind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maybe ALL the talent isn’t on our side of the family. Oh, how I long for the sound of little feet running through the house - the laughing, the squealing, and yes, even the arguing. Smash Brothers is waiting to be played. Legos are waiting to be built. Superheroes are waiting to save the day. And Papa and Mama are waiting to give the biggest hugs ever given to our three little babies.