Ode to Castor Oil

My company arrived one night on a three legged mule,
To the table they scattered and picked up their tool.
They waited and waited while my mind went blank.
What on earth do you feed two men, both built like a tank?
Both of them had high blood pressure, and sugar to beat.
What could I possibly fix for them to eat?

I had made a big roast, all moist and juicy,
When I heard Papa say, "I can't have that, just ask your sister Lucy."
Why in the world would she say 'NO' to my roast?
I thought I had just what I needed, if I added some toast.
"Oh No!" he exclaimed. "Not this time,
My bowels won't move to that rhythm or rhyme."

My mind went to working, I started to hear voices in my head,
"If his bowels won't move, we know what to do," they both said.
I was reluctant to listen to these two.
I was really scared to act on what they asked me to do.
One voice was strong and went straight to the matter,  (Mawline)
The other was laughing so hard it sounded like clatter.(Luci)

To the shelve where I keep the bottle, I went with great dread.
If this worked like they said, I would need shovels from my shed.
I pulled a large spoon from the drawer and headed his way,
He said in glee "Why in #$@! hadn't I thought of that before today!"
I poured it, ever so slowly, into the spoon,
Hoping my septic tank would have enough room.

He opened his mouth and took a big spoonful in,
And said, "One more please," with a strange sort of grin.
He picked up the bottle and read what it said,
"Oh #$% #$%!  I can't go to bed,
This stuff will work in five hours like a ton of lead."
He waited till nine to hit the old hay
He was sure it would wait until the next day.

He had just drifted off to sleep when all of a sudden,
He jumped to his feet and to the bathroom he went runnin'.
The Gators and WildCats were playing that night,
I had hoped Randy and Clyde would not get in a fight.
Both said they heard lots of noises from Dad's direction,
But neither one checked on him, not even his own son.

They were in the middle of a really good game,
And to them, if he went or not, it was pretty much all the same.
Poor old Papa!  His Castor oil cocktail had exploded by now.
He had to keep getting up somehow.
He had prayed to go, for days and days,
But now he was praying, "Please make it stop. I'll mend my bad ways."

The next day he was like a new man,
Fishing was his great and wonderful plan.
"Come on Randy, get your fishing poles, come on down to the boat.
Make sure you get my life jacket, because after last night, I know I won't float."

Posted by Jeff