I love my family, they have good hearts. Sometimes though, they have a little too much time on their hands. Case in point, the holidays. Every year there is at least one gag gift that goes around and usually my mother is involved – either as the giver or the recipient.
One year my aunt and my uncle gave my mom a sewing basket. As a small joke my Uncle Rich put in the basket the worst looking undershirt I have ever seen. This thing had more holes than swiss cheese. Upon giving it to her, he said that now that she had this new sewing basket, maybe she could fix his shirt.
Fix it, she did. Not only did she fix it, but she had me write a little poem to commemorate the occasion. Tonight as I was clearing out my files, I came across this ditty, and I thought I would post it here. May it gave you the laugh it gave me.
A Tale of Tatters
Oh woe is me, oh woe is me,
I came in a package three shirts apiece.
But alas when it came time for me to be clean,
I was done in by too much bleach and steam.
Now I look worn and tattered,
With seams ripped and holes scattered.
Martha and Rich gave me to Jan in her new sewing kit,
In hopes my tears she could fix.
But not even a seamstress as wonderful as she
Could fix a worn old rag such as me.
Then one night, Christmas Eve to be exact
That old lady found a use for me, now I’m all that!
Rich, in need of comfort after the long day of laughter and mirth,
Can now find some rest in his old stuffed shirt.
Jan cleverly put me inside two pieces of satin and lace,
And now I help make a comfy pillowcase.
I want to thank everyone who has helped me on my wonderful journey from the store shelves,
To the washing machine,
To Jan’s smart little scheme.
My life has been filled with adventure and dirt,
And I want you to know I will always be…
The Grateful Undershirt.