We All Got Out the Chalk

I was shaking and swaying to music of the 60’s, My favorite stuff, When my grandchildren joined in, And this is no guff. I whirled them and twirled them, We stomped on the floor, We got out pots, We got out pans. We threw them around the kitchen, Our dance was grand. Then we ran out to the yard, as we were still on fire. We danced in the yard, shaking our booties. We stomped and we chanted, and we rubbed the trees with our cooties. We were wearing scarves now, Our treasure trove. We threw them in the air, And we laughed, and skipped. And we watched them flutter, like the sail of a ship. We preened, and we twirled, and we whirled and we pranced. The two-year-old got giddily excited, in her underpants. Then we got out the chalk, and we painted the garage. All of it, not just the doors. And the driveway, And the porch, And the steps, And the floors. Grandpa came out and his face really got red And we laughed and we danced, and we teased him so bad. He ran back inside, and covered his head. It was a fine day, For the grandchildren and me. It always is, when they get on this kick. And no one can stop us, not one little bit!