Poetic Blooming Father's Day

Dad

He liked to fish and hunt.

He’d work at the steel mill all day

and work in the garden or yard in the evenings.

He’d do funny things like hide in the woods

and make bob cat noises to try to scare us.

He’d tell jokes and make us laugh,

but he’d yell, too, when we were driving him crazy.

I can still remember the way he said, “Yeah?”

when we’d relate what happened that day,

or say, “Gee Gosh!” when he was frustrated.

He’d call us  Smokey, Sam, Clem or Sassafras

or Kathy, Judy, Linda, Connie, Karen all in one breath.

He was always wishing he had put in two bathrooms.

Apparently he didn’t think he’d be living with six women.