My mother and I have a unique relationship. The two of us have batted banter back and forth in a nearly endless volley ever since I was small. These days we usually pick up one week at the exact same snarky moment where we left things the previous “Grammy Night” seven days earlier. It is odd, I imagine, for my children to see me in the cut and thrust wordplay which takes place between us, as it is not the sort of exchange I share with anyone else. After twelve years, Cindy is just now getting used to the rhythm.
My mom lives just one and a half miles away, though proximity does nothing to keep her from being regularly a half hour or so late to dinner. If were I to unroll the scroll of things about her which annoy me, it would easily kiss the concrete from my house to hers. Still, I do love the old lady dearly and credit her with much of my verbal aptitude. As far back as I can recall, she’s always spoken to my sister and me in full, articulate and sometimes rather silly sentences. Whenever we had questions, her answers were thorough, and she never steered too far from the more difficult topics or acted as though we were unable to understand.
My mom stepped into the 21st century a couple of months back with the purchase of her first computer. Since then she has been one of the most frequent commenters here at Writer Dad. Her comments are often quite sweet, though she doesn’t seem to understand that answering a comment is not quite as simple as answering an email and tends to get impatient. Last week my mom left her first comment at Blogger Dad, then emailed me several hours later, a slight undercurrent of panic between the lines, “Do you think Dave got my comment?!?! It said, ‘awaiting moderation,’ but that was HOURS ago!”
“Yeah Mom, I’m sure he got it,” I said.
Wednesday’s post about the teachable moment in the library ended with a short poem. My mom’s comment was a response in rhyme. The two of us went back and forth and then back and forth again. Our exchange was fairly rapid fire and offers a rather nice snapshot of our relationship. I thought I would share.
Enjoy!
ME:
4th graders are awesome, though best when they listen
Instead of the blah-blah-ing that gets them to missing
The info the teachers are spitting and spewing
To let the kids know what they’re supposed to be doing
Writing is fun – it’s like cake and balloons
On a Saturday morning spent watching cartoons
Except writing is better because you get to choose
What things you should keep and what things you should lose
You’re the creator – the world’s yours to build
Who gets to live there and how it is filled
Unicorns, dragons and men with red eyes;
Fairies and magic, an ending surprise
Fantasy’s fun if you break every rule
Decide what is dumb and decide what is cool
Be your best writer, place pen to the page
Write the best story, then be all the rage
GRAMMY:
We all like a story, the weirder the better,
The plot can turn fast, like a change in the weather.
It’s fun to learn how to spin a great tale,
Like pinnochio trapped inside of that whale.
A good teacher can train you, just give her a chance
To guide your ideas, put your mind in a trance.
You’ll be amazed at what you can do
It’s almost as easy as tying your shoe.
It’s how they all started, those authors of fame
Playing with words, but more than a game.
Once you get going, you’ll soar and you’ll fly
but don’t waste any time or you’ll ask yourself “why”?
ME:
I like that your’e spitting your comment in rhyme
It’s really a fun way to fritter the time
The words come so quick; like “you know” from a goose
They’ll rumble around until you let loose
Obviously my verbiage was nurtured quite well
Now I lay down the rhythm like ringing a bell
Thanks for always talking to me as a kid
Even with all the obnoxious I did
It’s one of the reasons I now think so fast
The skills of my present, piled onto my past
GRAMMY:
Yep, you were a wild one, I can’t disagree,
But they say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
Encourage a young one with humor and praise
And it should pay off for the rest of your days.
I’m so glad you had such a great, twisted brain
Now you can write without feeling no pain
Creativity’s fun, of that there’s no doubt
Just have the confidence to let it all out.
All this rhyming is making me dizzy and weak, I think
A big cheesburger I will go seek!!!!
ME:
How long can you do this, ’cause I’ve got all day
And you know I never run out of new things to say
I’ll rhyme in the morning and then rhyme at lunch
I’ll rhyme during dinner and I have a hunch
That I can keep going even when I am dreaming
The words in my head are all twisted and teeming
Foaming and frothing, all set to explode
Syllables spilling – I’m cracking the code
Chew on your cheeseburger, swallow your shake
Feast on your french fries and dream about steak
If you wanna keep going, you know I’m right here
I’ll keep this thread running till the end of the year
GRAMMY:
Oh, pshaw, boy, of that there’s no doubt
You have talent like a tile store has grout.
We could keep going like this, you and I
But you’re right, I would rather go eat some pie.
While this is great fun,I could go all day
I have things to do and places to play
Laundry to do, dishes to wash
Cats to feed , perhaps a roach to squash.
I’ll cut it short now and bid you adieu
See you at grammy nite with cookies or stew.
ME:
I’ll look forward to Grammy Night, as I always do
But please, there’s no need for your cookies or stew
I’d rather you knock on the door right on time
A Thursday on schedule would be so sublime
While we’re on the subject, my mother so dear
Can you please not bring any chotskys ’round here?
Seriously, we’re swimming in a sea of detritus
And I’m afraid the navigation will give me arthritis
Please bring your smile, your wit and your charm
Do it on time and we’ll ring the alarm
We’ll call in the media so they too can witness
Your attempt at finding some on the dot fitness
Writer Dad
My daughter has been sitting beside me for the last half hour while I edit this piece. She has her second post up over at Children Write the Future this morning, yet has been loathe to edit. She loves to write, but does not have the same feelings about the revision process and is under the false impression that her father does not need to edit. I pulled a Stephen King book from the shelf, the fattest I could find, and told her that even King, author of over 50 books, doesn’t ever get it right the first time. If you have a moment, either in the comments below or over at her post, “How to Know if Someone is a Good Friend,” please let her know that her Daddy is right. : > ) THANKS!
About Sean Platt
Thanking you for posting, yesterday was great fun.
What can be better than to spar with your son?
Bobbing and weaving has long been our game
and I expect it forever to be the same.
But as for annoying, Seany my dear,
you gave as good as your’re getting , back in your year!
Payback’s a bitch, my darling, my heir
and i ‘spect you’ll be in your children’s hair!
love you,mom
Heir to what, Ma, your piles and piles
That mound up in mountains for miles and miles?
The old house where raccoons have chewed up the wires
(We’re waiting for all the inevitable fires)
Yeah I’m annoying, but molehill to mountain
Compared to your irksome which flows like a fountain
Let’s be for real, it’s not that your vexatious
It’s more that you do it while so ostentatious
So pleased with yourself, annoying while grinning
While my center of sanity is ceaselessly spinning
Maybe I will be in my children’s hair
But the big difference is that I’ll truly care
When they ask me to cease and desist then I will
Considering their feelings will get me to chill
Our banter is groomed by three decades routine
But I’ve kept the exchanges with my children clean
Though I enjoy our wordplay, I’d like it to grow
Instead of just as it was a decade ago
People evolve, but our progress is leisure
And sometimes I feel like you’ll send me to seizure!
(love ya)
.-= Sean´s last blog ..Knowing What to Look For in a Ghostwriter =-.
Whoa….so sorry that I hit a nerve,
but much more grouchiness than i felt i deserve!
My stuff , I know is gargantuan indeed
hopefully soon at ebay I’ll succeed.
The racoons have vacated, wiring lust satiated
sorry that often with me you’re frustrated.
when we’re friends I’m elated. (truce)
You know I’m not grouchy, just trying to be honest
Sometimes it’s hard with all life throws upon us
And I loop with my language in endless repeat
Yet still fell the sting of eternal defeat
I don’t want to feel frustrated with you ’cause that’s sad
And I don’t want to tell you, then have you feel bad
But I’d like you to listen and give my thoughts worth
That’s important to me, as you did give me birth
I’m glad the raccoons are gone, yeah that’s great!
And Ebay could work if you scrub the estate
A truce would be awesome, a handshake and hug
I’ll see you tonight with a kiss on the mug.
Love you. : > )
Thanking you for posting, yesterday was great fun.
What can be better than to spar with your son?
Bobbing and weaving has long been our game
and I expect it forever to be the same.
But as for annoying, Seany my dear,
you gave as good as your’re getting , back in your year!
Payback’s a bitch, my darling, my heir
and i ‘spect you’ll be in your children’s hair!
love you,mom
Heir to what, Ma, your piles and piles
That mound up in mountains for miles and miles?
The old house where raccoons have chewed up the wires
(We’re waiting for all the inevitable fires)
Yeah I’m annoying, but molehill to mountain
Compared to your irksome which flows like a fountain
Let’s be for real, it’s not that your vexatious
It’s more that you do it while so ostentatious
So pleased with yourself, annoying while grinning
While my center of sanity is ceaselessly spinning
Maybe I will be in my children’s hair
But the big difference is that I’ll truly care
When they ask me to cease and desist then I will
Considering their feelings will get me to chill
Our banter is groomed by three decades routine
But I’ve kept the exchanges with my children clean
Though I enjoy our wordplay, I’d like it to grow
Instead of just as it was a decade ago
People evolve, but our progress is leisure
And sometimes I feel like you’ll send me to seizure!
(love ya)
.-= Sean´s last blog ..Knowing What to Look For in a Ghostwriter =-.
Whoa….so sorry that I hit a nerve,
but much more grouchiness than i felt i deserve!
My stuff , I know is gargantuan indeed
hopefully soon at ebay I’ll succeed.
The racoons have vacated, wiring lust satiated
sorry that often with me you’re frustrated.
when we’re friends I’m elated. (truce)
You know I’m not grouchy, just trying to be honest
Sometimes it’s hard with all life throws upon us
And I loop with my language in endless repeat
Yet still fell the sting of eternal defeat
I don’t want to feel frustrated with you ’cause that’s sad
And I don’t want to tell you, then have you feel bad
But I’d like you to listen and give my thoughts worth
That’s important to me, as you did give me birth
I’m glad the raccoons are gone, yeah that’s great!
And Ebay could work if you scrub the estate
A truce would be awesome, a handshake and hug
I’ll see you tonight with a kiss on the mug.
Love you. : > )
Ok, that comment thing has to be the cutest thing ever!!
P.S. Honestly, though, you may have to call a rhyme detente because it seems like she will BRING IT.
.-= Hayden Tompkins´s last blog ..The Power of Negativity =-.
The thing about my mom is that she doesn’t need an invitation. I’m quite sure she’ll be bringing it whether I like it or not! : > )
.-= Sean´s last blog ..Knowing What to Look For in a Ghostwriter =-.
Ok, that comment thing has to be the cutest thing ever!!
P.S. Honestly, though, you may have to call a rhyme detente because it seems like she will BRING IT.
.-= Hayden Tompkins´s last blog ..The Power of Negativity =-.
The thing about my mom is that she doesn’t need an invitation. I’m quite sure she’ll be bringing it whether I like it or not! : > )
.-= Sean´s last blog ..Knowing What to Look For in a Ghostwriter =-.
You two are a hoot, and your rhymes I salute.
.-= Lori Hoeck´s last blog ..Karate yells: Bogus or big help in self defense? =-.
Thanks I appreciate a sentence of praise
It’s like a lot of pastels instead of the grays.
Thanks, Lori!
You two are a hoot, and your rhymes I salute.
.-= Lori Hoeck´s last blog ..Karate yells: Bogus or big help in self defense? =-.
Thanks I appreciate a sentence of praise
It’s like a lot of pastels instead of the grays.
Thanks, Lori!
All this sentiment makes me sick,
You really are such a dear loving son.
If you weren’t such a solid rock,
I’d happily brand you a massive cold fish.
But you’re a writer not a trucker,
And one hell of a mother’s boy.
.-= George Roper´s last blog ..Eating Sawdust Is Not Big And It’s Not Clever =-.
Tsk… tsk… George, I want to see some rhymes. I know you can do it.
All this sentiment makes me sick,
You really are such a dear loving son.
If you weren’t such a solid rock,
I’d happily brand you a massive cold fish.
But you’re a writer not a trucker,
And one hell of a mother’s boy.
.-= George Roper´s last blog ..Eating Sawdust Is Not Big And It’s Not Clever =-.
Tsk… tsk… George, I want to see some rhymes. I know you can do it.
Sorry man. I couldn’t think of any rhymes for sick, rock or trucker.
.-= George Roper´s last blog ..Eating Sawdust Is Not Big And It’s Not Clever =-.
Dang, that was fast!
How about this:
All this sentiment makes me sick,
You’re really such a loving son.
The syrup that you speak is thick
And sometimes even fun.
If you weren’t such a solid rock,
I’d brand you a cold fish.
Sometimes what you say is shlock,
Served in a soppy dish.
But you’re a writer not a trucker,
One hell of a mother’s boy.
But at least you’re not a sucker
Sucking on his favorite toy.
(or something) : > )
Sorry man. I couldn’t think of any rhymes for sick, rock or trucker.
.-= George Roper´s last blog ..Eating Sawdust Is Not Big And It’s Not Clever =-.
Dang, that was fast!
How about this:
All this sentiment makes me sick,
You’re really such a loving son.
The syrup that you speak is thick
And sometimes even fun.
If you weren’t such a solid rock,
I’d brand you a cold fish.
Sometimes what you say is shlock,
Served in a soppy dish.
But you’re a writer not a trucker,
One hell of a mother’s boy.
But at least you’re not a sucker
Sucking on his favorite toy.
(or something) : > )
Bravo sir! Bravo. I take my hat off to you. Nicely done!! :D
.-= George Roper´s last blog ..Eating Sawdust Is Not Big And It’s Not Clever =-.
I don’t care who you are Mr. Roper, you are hella fun!
Have a happy Sunday. : > )
Bravo sir! Bravo. I take my hat off to you. Nicely done!! :D
.-= George Roper´s last blog ..Eating Sawdust Is Not Big And It’s Not Clever =-.
I don’t care who you are Mr. Roper, you are hella fun!
Have a happy Sunday. : > )