Times Twenty

In our house, birthdays came and wentWith regularity,And though we tried, it was so hard,To act with parity.
The cake was simple, ‘Mama’ made,In chocolate or spice,Then decorated more or less,So it would look sooo ‘nice’.
But gifts! Oh, boy those were the test,You wanted something great,But fluctuating finance made kids Happy or distrait.
As they grew older, Papa’d say,In stentorian voice,“All birthdays now are cancelled, kids!”His kids did not rejoice!
But deep inside, his children knewHe really meant it not.They really needn’t worry thatTheir day’d be forgot.
The kids are grown and moving on,Now their kids’ birthdays loom,And once again we find that we,Our duties we’ve resumed.
Instead of six, there’s twenty now,And everything costs more,Every other week we’re found,Perusing. In the store.
This week my Husby tried that thingThat he had tried before,Announcing that all birthdaysWould not be fêted more.
But what a clamour then arose,Each one outdid the next,One didn’t have to look too hard,To see that they were vexed.
But deep inside, his ‘grands’ all knewHe really meant it . . . not.They really needn’t worry thatTheir day’d be forgot.
And truth be told we love it whenThey open up our gifts,They may think it’s theirs alone,It’s us that feel the lift.
So every other week you’ll findWith minimum of fuss,That Husby and his loving wife,Are there at Toys R Us.

Each month 'mid lives both old and new,
Our Karen gives us poems to do.
And now you see what we have writ',
Impressed, now, with our smarts and wit?
Karen of Baking In A Tornado: September Twelfth
Dawn of Cognitive Script: Another Year Has Passed Sarah of My Brand of Crazy: 10 Years of a LifetimeLydia of Cluttered Genius: Unwanted Anniversary