When I'm an old lady, I'll live with my son!

published July 21, 2011

in the Stockton Sentinel

Stockton, Kansas

            Having survived the official achievement of another year older, and having enjoyed a weekend of celebrating such a blessing with friends, my thoughts return to my story from last week, which was about my 50th birthday party. There was one detail of the event that I did not mention – that is, neither of my sons was in attendance for this event of a lifetime.

Not that it’s a really big thing in the whole scope of world events and all, but it was kind of a big thing to me. It just didn’t register on their scale of priorities, especially when it would have required them both making arrangements to get off of work (at the time they were both managing retail businesses that are open on Sunday) and travel a great distance.

Mostly, I think they just weren’t interested in singing 50 hymns! They may have gotten a few traits from me genetically (tall, good looking, baldness…), but I never succeeded in creating in them an appreciation for music.

In order to properly address the issue of their absence and make it even more noticeable, I dedicated a poem to my sons, which I printed in the program and read aloud to those who had chosen to come and party with me. The poem, author unknown, is entitled, “When I’m an Old Lady, I’ll Live With My Son.” It is as follows:

When I’m an old lady, I’ll live with my son

And make his life happy and filled with such fun.

I want to pay back all the joy he’s provided

Returning each deed. Oh, he’ll be so excited.

                 - When I’m an old lady and live with my son.

I’ll write on the wall with reds, white and blues,

And bounce on the furniture wearing my shoes.

I’ll drink from the carton and then leave it out;

I’ll stuff all the toilets, and oh, they will shout!

     - When I’m an old lady and live with my son.

When he’s on the phone and just out of reach,

I’ll get into things, like sugar and bleach.

Oh, he’ll snap his fingers and then shake his head,

And when he is done, I’ll hide under the bed.

     - When I’m an old lady and live with my son.

I’ll sit close to the TV, through the channels I’ll click.

I’ll cross both my eyes just to see if they stick.

I’ll take off my socks and throw one away,

And play in the mud ‘til the end of the day.

     - When I’m an old lady and live with my son.

And later, in bed, I’ll relax with big sighs,

And thank God in prayer and then close my eyes.

And my son will look in with a smile slowly creeping,

And say with a groan, “She’s so sweet when she’s sleeping.”

     - When I’m an old lady and live with my son.