The Pits

By: Angela Gillaspie Copyright © September 2002

It was a hectic week - I had much to do,

Soccer and football practices and a field trip to the zoo.

Friday evening came and I stretched out on my chair,

My daughter looked at me and said, "Yuck-Gross at the hair!"

Looking side to side, I asked, "Where?"

Pointing under my arm she said, "Right there!"

"Oh," I said as I began to blush,

I forgot to shave - I was in such a rush.

"Don't worry, baby," I said, looking under my arm,

"There's just a tiny bit - it will cause no harm."

"It's gross! It's gross!" she cried with alarm.

"You look like Aunt Bet from down on the farm!"

I knew what to do - something that would amaze her.

At her age, there isn't much that would faze her.

Just last week, she wore my purple sequined blazer!

Slowly, I revealed my secret weapon: a razor!

"Doesn't it hurt?" She asked, as her mood became dour.

I smiled and said, "No, I use it in the shower."

"Lather the soap thick under my arm where it's sour,"

"Pull the razor up and down, soon I'll be as fresh as a flower."

She asked, "What about in the bath, with the bubbles?"

I answered, "Of course! The razor will get all my stubbles."

"There is one thing," I warned, "Never dry shave, or you'll have troubles."

She said, "I have so much to learn."

"Yes," I agreed, "you don't want razor burn."

She asked, "I'll have to shave just like you?"

I said, "Yes, sometime soon, I'm afraid it's true."

"What if I don't? It's too much of a bother!"

"Well then," I replied, "You'll look just like your father."

Then she left with her first razor in hand,

I groped for a tissue, hurrying to beat the band.

My baby's growing up - puberty is not far,

Oh Lord, the next thing she'll want to do is borrow the car!

Stay tuned for more SouthernAngel's poetic fun!