Simple Lessons From My Mother

Mama taught me to wash my hair Every Saturday with no delay To unbraid it and let in air So that lice may not build a lair On my head to birth and play. “What is lice,” I asked mama near the swamp And a lazy smile curled her lip “Hmm lice are little monsters that come to dip Their little long hooks that are sharp Into hair that is not washed and aired up.” In my mind I made a vow to always wash up- My hair with no delay. I had a sweet tooth and still do When mama caught me what could I do? I knew for sure this time cry I would Mama was not smiling like she always did But she sat me down and held The mirror up so see I could. “See those teeth white and straight Are they not beautiful? But wait That sugar will make them beak and chip And your breath will smell like garbage heap If you don’t brush your teeth and help God fight the nasty monsters that come to tear teeth up.” So in my mind I decided To always brush my teeth to keep the monsters away. But my sweet tooth did not sway And our sugar cabinet had no keys… no way I could take a little and pray Mama wouldn’t find out that I did. But she did though I was smart And she took it in her stride…hmm wait… She told me a stone would grow And my belly would become huge Till it touched the ground if I ate sugar yet again. I looked around and sure enough There were people who had big swollen bellies I could not ask as they were old but surely they must have stolen Sugar from somewhere and ate some could not even breath I was cured as I touched my flat little belly And since that day I never ate mamas’ sugar again.