Singing to Grandma’s House

                               

 

Oh!

Barreling down the dirt roads

To Grandma’s house was exciting!

Thumping up storms of dust

Under the wheels of the old grey sedan

That had to hold four kids in the back 

All squashed and squabbly

Until Dad started to sing.

And our dad could sing!

He taught us the best songs ever.

We sang lustily the raunchy lyrics

Of the Great War years

That he picked up as a kid from his dad

And all those grandpa uncles.

Every time Dad started these songs

His eyes twinkled

And our mother sucked her teeth

And said 'Tssch!'

While her mouth quirked at the corners.

Mother had a serpentine sense of humour:

You never knew when it would strike;

This insecurity kept us on our toes.

Mum couldn't stay in pitch to save her soul,

But she hummed along with the melodies

All off-key and funny.

We egged her on

And then tried to drown her out

With our smirky

Tunefulness.

 

 

 

Cynthia Buell Thomas