Tag Archives: daughter

The Misunderstanding

Photo of Cocker Spaniel Ch. Obo II, published ...

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Judge Henson had a Cocker Spaniel,

That really
made his day,

He wanted to
show her off,

To anyone
who came his way,

 

The Judge
invited me to see,

This Spaniel bitch on display,

“Come over
for a mint julep,

About two
p.m. on Thursday,”

 

The Judge also had a daughter,

Who seemed
far beyond my reach,

I had become
enamored with her,

After I seeing her on the beach,

 

But that
afternoon it was the Judge and I,

As we sipped
our juleps down,

I dared not
ask about his daughter,

He’d run several
men out of town,

 

The spaniel
was paraded before me,

But the
showing was too quick,

“Judge,” I
said, “she’s quite a bitch,

And she’s
the one I’d pick,”

 

About that
time Ellie Mae walked in,

She’d heard
what I had said,

She thought I
was talking about her,

And, boy,
was her face red,

 

“She stands right and has a beautiful tail,

But I’d like
to see much more,”

Ellie Mae
huffed and snorted,

And scampered
quickly out the door,

 

Judge Henson
stood up and shook my hand,

His hand
gripped me like a vise,

“I saw you
looking at my girl,

My only child,
and I’ve got some advice,”

 

“But I’ve got
a 4 o’clock tee time,

So please
don’t rush away,

My wife
should be home any time now,

For dinner
she’ll want you to stay,”

 

I thought
Ellie Mae had hidden someplace,

Perhaps
going somewhere to brood,

But she
returned with a smile on her face,

She forgave
me for being rude,

 

Somehow the
lights were dimmed,

Music was
playing with a wild primal beat,

Ellie Mae
was making me nervous,

She
commanded, “Please have a seat!”

 

She began
dancing with abandon,

My face
suddenly became pale,

When she
shimmied and asked,

“Do you like
my tail?”

 

Before I
could explain,

I wasn’t
referring to her,

She got on
all fours,

And began to softly purr,

 

She jumped
on the couch,

And looked
me in the eye,

“I’ve been
waiting for someone like you,

I want a
bold kind of guy,”

 

Everything
happened so quickly,

I couldn’t
have planned it if I chose,

But her
mother arrived and saw us on the couch,

“Son, are
you trying to propose?”

 

And that’s
the true story,

Of how I got hitched,

I know it
sounds funny,

But I went
to see a bitch,

 

Now I’ve got
a whole kennel,

Of puppies
and rug rats galore,

Just because
I said, “She has a beautiful tail,

But I’d like
to see much more.”

 

 

When a Parent Leaves

My daughter’s tears greet me,

So I decide to be grimly silent,

Rather than probe and see,

What she harbors and doesn’t vent,

Perhaps this time it’s much the same,

With time suspended in her world,

I think she’ll tell me I am to blame,

For all the troubles that were unfurled,

Nothing is spoken as she stares,

While the tension between us builds,

Should I tell her I still care,

And try to break through her tearful shield?

Her teddy bear is tight within her grasp,

As she endures time that slips away,

All the reasons I left are under clasp,

Waiting to be discussed on another day.

(Part Two) When Love Is Shallow, But Other Times Deep

Amanda Bach : Fashion model icon : sexy

Image by tibchris via Flickr

 I attributed my wandering to my romantic allure,

And Kristi was there now to calm and reassure,

I settled down with Amanda, with Kristi down the road,

Twice the loving was great, but twice the financial load,

I worked harder and my sales continued to grow,

But as children arrived, my funds still became low,

Although Amanda had only graduated from high school,

I decided I’d find her a job, even if she had to retool,  

With all three children in school all day,

There was no reason for her to stay and play,

“Amanda,” I said, “A wife’s duty is to support her man,

So you’re going to help, any way you can,”

“You do a good job at cleaning our abode,

You’re strong and healthy, you can share our load,”

“You can clean the houses of our busy friends,

There are three or four that I’d recommend,”

I loved Kristi more but I wanted to be fair,

Our two children were off and in child care,

I found her some work from an internet source,

With a few ads here and there, she became a force,

She would make sales to the desperate and old,

“Forget your conscience,” I said, “you’ve got to be bold,”

“Promise them they’ll make thousands per day,”

She learned to take what they had and then slip away,

They were both bringing in money like most wives should,

In fact, I thought the three of us were really doing good,

So I began to dress better, for the sake of the company,

That’s when I met the owner’s daughter, a beauty named Shari,

She was spoiled by her father, rotten to the core,

She usually got what she wanted, and a little bit more,

Now I was trying to have fun, maybe flirt and that’s all,

But she thought we should go out and have a ball,

Shari wanted to have her way, I said, “Oh, no, you’re not,”

“We’ll do things my way, a man should call the shots,”

My life was getting complicated, but what could I do?

My love had grown large enough, to include Shari too,

 Amanda and Kristi kept the fires burning at home,

And Shari was possessive enough to not let me roam,

My life was organized and nobody was out of line,

My wives were contented and my kids were just fine,

(To Be Continued)

Sons of Thunder

The Sons of Thunder

 

There were early warning signs that violence was on the way.  The two boys were untamed, unfettered, and usually unsupervised.  Their mother had disappeared mysteriously, leaving her husband alone with three children. The father refused any help from the community, insisting that the family would work out their own problems.  Alicia, the beautiful eldest child, reportedly kept the house running smoothly.  She and the boys, James and John, were always clean, fed, and well dressed. Their father, known to drink a bit but not to excess, paid the bills and saved money. Although the father was gone frequently and sometimes for long periods of time there wasn’t anything specifically anyone could point a finger at, yet we all knew there was danger lurking behind the façade.

Alicia never went on dates, although at sixteen she caught the eye of every eligible male in the surrounding areas.  Frankly, they were afraid to ask her out.  Her dad made it a point to seek out prospective suitors and let them know their lives were in danger around his house or around his daughter.  Alicia meekly followed orders, kept the house immaculate, and maintained her straight A average in high school.

John, the middle child, had an explosive temper that occurred with increasing frequency. Often I would confront him in school about some infraction and his face would become contorted with rage.  His voice would shake and obscenities would pour out. Sometimes I asked him to walk around the schoolyard in an effort to cool his anger.  I would watch him pick up a stick, point it at me, and pretend to shoot.  Since I knew he hunted the fields around the school and around my house it was reason for concern.  I knew he would seethe for hours until his anger finally abated.  John was also very intelligent.  He did well in his school subjects and also stayed informed about world politics. He had great plans for his future but I worried about his bouts of anger and how that anger controlled him at times.

John and James were unwelcome in neighboring homes because of their destructive hunting forays and their penchant for breaking things just for fun.  One day they followed their dog down the road and into the driveway of a neighbor’s house.  The dog chased chickens while the boys whooped their support.  Finally the neighbor stepped out of his house.  “You boys go home. I don’t want anything killing my chickens.”  The boys didn’t listen.  Instead they entered the barn and began breaking windows while the dog continued his relentless pursuit of squawking chickens.  The neighbor stepped out of his house onto his front porch, holding a shot-gun.  “Please take your dog home.  He doesn’t belong here. You go home, too!”  “I don’t want anyone to get hurt.” 

The boys left, only to return a short time later with their dad.  He had two six shooters strapped to his sides, gunfighter style.  He confronted the neighbor.  “If you want to have a shoot-out, then let’s get to it.”  The neighbor backed down, uneasy about an altercation with a crazy man.  And so it went, from that moment the community shied away from any arguments with the dad.

The family business was another strange thing that was rarely discussed.  The dad made caskets.  The boys often bragged about their personal coffins, made from the finest materials and ready to be used. “You should see the polished wood and the blue silk.”  “When I die, dad will make mine even better,” the other replied.

James was known for his antics, his infectious smile, and his sudden angelic appearance.  He could be deeply in trouble and yet somehow escape unscathed.  Once, as a fifth grader, he had been caught peeping over a stall in the girl’s bathroom.  He received no punishment because he was so sorry it had ever happened.

One day in spring, after the fire at Christmas had burned the school totally, and we were in school at the church, a strange thing happened.  On this rare day James was sitting quietly in class trying to decipher the big words.  The teacher,  however, could not focus on the lesson.  “I’m sorry,” she said, “but there’s something that really stinks around here.”  She walked from chair to chair but to no avail.  She eventually walked to the closet.  “I think something died in there,” she announced to the class. She flung open the door and peered in, holding her nose.  The children’s coats were hung on pegs, waiting to be picked up.  The teacher went from coat to coat, sniffing and coughing.  She stopped at James’s coat.  “This coat stinks,” she said.  “What is the problem?”  James laughed.  “I slept with my dog in the bed last night,” he proclaimed.  “A skunk had sprayed it.  My dog was still scared so I hugged it all night.”

James was the center of the universe at times.  He could not read any words with more than four letters.  The principal proudly proclaimed he taught James to read.  Later, when James was discovered memorizing the lessons ahead, the principal was deflated and gave up.  He turned the task over to a young teacher who decided James was a worthy project.  For several weeks she toiled and James struggled onward. The reading project seemed a success until one day after school the woman turned her back on James.  He quickly closed the distance between them, reached around and cupped her breasts.  She was horrified and fled to the principal.  “What are you going to do about it?” she demanded angrily.  “You shouldn’t have been alone with him,” the principal snapped.  The conversation was over.  James and the reading lessons were over, but James continued on, oblivious to the fact that anything was wrong. 

In the eighth grade and in high school James proved to be outstanding in sports.  Grades were overlooked as long as James tried.  There were occasions when those in the stands were pleasantly surprised by his adroit moves and quickness.  There were also occasions when those same people were shocked by his ability to get confused.  When he got turned around he might run the wrong way in football or make the winning basket for the wrong team in basketball.  Yes, James was something of an enigma.

We didn’t hear much about Alicia after she graduated from high school.  The boys said she went to college but we didn’t know where.  And John?  He graduated from high school and drifted northward, working one job after another.  Later we heard he had been arrested in Seattle for armed robbery and would be locked away for awhile.  And James?  I had forgotten about James until one night at eleven o’clock I was awakened by the persistent ring of my phone.  I picked it up and was greeted by a familiar voice.  “Mr. Roberson, remember me?  This is James and I just called to thank you for all you did for me.  You didn’t give up and eventually you got me to reading.  I’m now a lumberjack in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho.  I volunteer at a local elementary school when I can.   I just wanted to thank you but I don’t want to keep you up.  Good-bye!”  And with that James was gone, but definitely not forgotten.  He was one of the more difficult students who had learning disabilities and social problems and somehow had managed to rise out of the murky depths. He had taken the next step and was reaching out to others and giving them a chance to succeed.  His persistence also woke me up.

 Sometimes I forgot that school was more than teaching subject matter.  It was about touching human lives.  I slept easier that night and for many nights to follow because I had made a difference in his life. James didn’t give me a chance to tell him, but he also had made a difference in how I perceived things.  I must have done something right, and to this day I still believe I can touch that invisible spirit, and bring it to a higher level.  Thanks, James, wherever you are, for giving me feedback.

 

By Dan Roberson  2/26/09