When we were kids, the three of us
Walt and Jake and me
Spent hours swinging on a rope
Hung from a big old apple tree.
Tired of all the toing and froing
We'd slide off the seat and run
All around the house and back
Oh, we had so much fun.
Then we'd meander across the field to see
If any horses slept beneath the trees
And if they did, we'd brush their hair
Just like we didn't have a care.
Some days we'd wander around a bog
Looking for a big, old slimy frog
And Jake would get that certain look
Saying, "This frog is big enough to cook."
Then we'd wander home at the end of day
And Mother would eye the three of us and say
"Get out of those clothes and wash your face!"
And to the kitchen sink we'd race.
We'd push and shove and laugh some more
And spill cold water on the floor
And just as we'd dried our sunburned faces
Dad would come and take our places.
And Mother with her martyred air
Would fill our plates with homemade fare
And Dad would wait till she sat too
Before he sampled her delicious food.
Then Dad would ask about her day
Mother would roll her eyes and say
"I did the wash and ironing and carried water too
And you know how it is with all this crew
It's like living in a friggin zoo."
And Dad would smile and pat her work worn hand
To show her that he could understand
And then he'd smile at all his brood
Saying that her bread was oh so good.
Martha Stevens-David Column Magic City
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