Why We Don'T Visit Jane Anymore
Why We Don’t Visit Jane Anymore
By Elton Camp
We haven’t seen Jane in a year
Her house is fairly close to here
It is getting harder to find a ruse
Her invitations to politely refuse
She tells to us over the phone
See how my child has grown
Your visits are so far between
New pictures you haven’t seen
I begin to think you must be mad
And it is making me feel so bad
And if I made some big mistake
Then I’ll gladly an apology make
“Oh, no, dear, nothing of the kind
On our visits we simply got behind.
We promise to come without delay
We will sure come on next Saturday.”
Though we dread the odious chore
We walk the yard, toward the door
Step carefully. Avoid piles of brown
Almost everywhere they are found
When we apprehensively come inside,
Just as before, we find it hard to abide.
Odor that makes us gag fills our noses
For sure, we can say that it ain’t roses
It’s awful, one my wife and I both abhor
We smelled it there on the visits before
“Yip, yip” then arises from a ball of fur
We recognize our niece’s odious little cur
“Right on the couch, please have a seat.
Want you my precious Bowser to greet.
Because you are both such darling chaps,
He’ll quickly jump right up into your laps.”
I wouldn’t want you the honor to miss
Of getting from my fine dog a big kiss
Bowser’ll show how he likes you quick
He always does it with a great big lick
Oh, and here comes my long-haired cat.
What do you think ’bout one like that?
It’s well known that dogs and cats fight
But for these two, the story wasn’t right
The sneaky cat’s presence we couldn’t tell.
Since we had credited the dog for that smell.
My dear, will you look there on your rug?
What on earth is that brown, jumping bug?
Your house always has some fleas, you say?
Have you ever tried using some bug spray?
We don’t want to act mean or make a fuss,
But we now must leave before they get on us.
It’s getting late and we no longer can delay
We walk toward the door to be on our way
To our annoyance, we do learn how it feels
To have a vicious little dog nip at our heels
We tread the yard again, being most discreet
And watch so carefully where we put our feet
But we find a final gift from Jane’s little dear
On bottoms of our shoes, some of his manure
And as we start to drive away, Jane did croon
“Y’all please be sure to come back real soon.”
To visit her again we would just “love” to do
And hold our breaths so we won’t say, “Phew.”
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