Friday, September 26, 2008

An ode to a non-teenage daugther

Believe it or not, my oldest daughter is turning 21 tomorrow. How I have waited for this day! I am so excited that I feel the need to write a little ditty. . .

Hurray to the one who arrived five weeks early.
She's darling and charming and lovely and whirly.
I remember her birth just like yesterday,
for she's the first one who brought disarray.

I thought her so cute with her hair in a tonsure.
Who was to know she resembled a monster?
Those chipmonk-ey cheeks, head cocked to one side,
you just might just confuse her with Frankenstein's bride.

And though now she sports many symbols of peace,
we'd go to the mall and she'd shop on a leash.
She'd sing-song her way through racks of good clothes,
telling the world that she picked her nose!

And soon she grew into a most graceful tyke,
breaking her wrist while riding her bike.
Breaking one arm when she fell down the stairs,
the next time she fell, the boardwalk was there.

No wonder when this one was all set to drive,
her mother prayed hard that she'd just stay alive.
Though, sadly, it's true that Zack's time has now past,
Roberta's real cool and she drives pretty fast.

Arthritis and countless diseases. . . disorders. . .
the near-to-death drowning in ocean's deep water. . . .
declaring out loud her distaste for all meat. . .
calling home drunk from Rome's darkened streets.

Yes, raising this daughter has been, at times, trying -
the drama, the pain, the tears, fights, and crying.
But now she's "of age" and I'm glad she is mine
to run to the store and buy Mommy some wine!

Happy 21st Birthday!