A Stick of Butter
Sometimes an image just sticks in your mind;
Try as you might you can’t leave it behind.
One I’ll relate didn’t happen to me
But hearing about it sufficed, as you’ll see.
A colleague of mine who had students in need
Sometimes paid a home visit to get up to speed,
For meeting the parents at home would provide
Information that they might be tempted to hide.
On one such occasion, who came to the door
Was the mother, whom he’d not encountered before.
She loomed there, obese, very much in command,
With a full stick of butter she clutched in her hand.
“Come in,” she insisted, and seemed quite at ease
Though what happened next near brought my friend to his knees.
It wasn’t the home’s disrepair, but the sight
Of that mom with her butter stick, taking a bite.
Whatever he thought of the mom and her kid
Doesn’t matter today, but I’ll never be rid
Of that image – the mother, the butter, the chew
And I’ll bet now that picture will stick with you, too.
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