Cheryl Ann Ross | + Follow Poet |
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True Norwegian

My mother always told me that I
looked just like my dad.
A true Norwegian was I, all of his
features I had.

I guess I really had no right 
to complain,
except all through school all the kids 
made fun of my last name.

Don't get me wrong, I always liked
my blond hair and green eyes.
I just wish we Vikings were known
for smaller thighs.

My dad always told me that with my
heritage I was stuck.
And that all of the women in our family never
had to worry about having a small butt.

I said to him, “Those are two things that
I never chose.
But I think the thing that bothers me most,
is this dang Norwegian nose.

I even had a friend that once made up 
a song about mine.
He sang it to the tune of a John Lennon song,
and he made each and every word rhyme.

All of my children always thank me for 
giving them knock knees.
But I always tell them they can thank their grandpa, 
not me, for these. .

I guess I really shouldn’t complain . My dad
lived to be 93.
And I guess that’s one of the parts of him that
I hope will be passed down to me.

Copyright © Cheryl Ann Ross | Year Posted 2006

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