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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required One year I got a shirt with my initials on the pocket, My grandma wanted me to have it instead of a Saturn rocket. Even though what I really wanted was the model of the Apollo ship, My dad had made it clear to me that I shouldn’t give her any lip. And so I had to put it on and wear it for the rest of the day, A ten year old in his oxford cloth with MAL on display. “Don’t you look grown up?” Gram said with a smiling face, My brothers all laughed at me as my head hung in disgrace. When I sat down to Christmas dinner I saw salvation from remorse, Cranberry sauce and the law of gravity that I knew would be enforced. “I think that I’d like this sauce I’ll just put some on my plate,” Ooops, it slipped it seems that clumsiness was my fate. I excused myself to get up to go and change my shirt, I wiped a tear from my eye so grandma wouldn’t feel too hurt. It seemed that I had pulled it off even though the caper was adlib, Until my mom wrapped me in a towel and I now wore a bib. “I don’t want to see this shirt get spoiled before the dinner’s done,” She pushed my chair up tight to the table for fear that I might run. Which is what I would have done if it hadn’t been for my granddad, As he wrapped up in a towel and said, “I don’t think that looks half bad.” Then he threw an olive at my towel and said, “Now you’ve got a shield,” Then he threw one and I caught it in my mouth like I was in center field. I looked around the table and hit him with a piece of turkey meat, That he proudly wore upon his towel as we all continued to eat. Never again did I ever wear the shirt with my initials on the pocket, And next month for my birthday my Grandpa got me a Saturn Rocket. Sometimes I wonder just what kind of a grandpa will I be, And I really hope that I get a grandkid who’ll throw his food at me.
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