My song
My parents had so much love for me in  their hearts; I?ll never forget the day I was born.  It was the most beautiful  picture of perfection.  I don?t even think Picasso could have painted a prettier  picture.  The sky was the color timber wolf, and the rain was pouring down.  The  windows all had rusty bars over them, and there was a chalk outline of a person  beside the hospital bed.  There I was, lying in my mother?s arms.  She looked  into my eyes, as I did hers, and this heart-warming song arose from my father?s  lips.  Mom joined in, and in four-part harmony, they sang this loving song:
Little child
Don?t ever fall asleep with a cactus
Sonny boy
Don?t put a weed eater too close to  your face
Nooses don?t make good necklaces
No matter what anyone says
And son
Don?t get hit by that flying brief  case
Coat hangers don?t make good  boomerangs
Because they never come back
Don?t use shampoo as a mouthwash
It doesn?t get rid of the plaque
And sheep shouldn?t be abused
Count those three-headed animals by  two?s
And junior, oh junior
Don?t start plague epidemics at local  zoos
Well, dad was still drunk from the  night before, and mom was still feeling the effects of that epidural.   Nevertheless, that was the song they sang.  The weird part is I can remember  them singing that song at various other times in my life, when epidurals or  booze wasn?t involved.  There was a second verse too, and here it goes:
Little child
Don?t spit when you?re facing the  wind
Sonny boy
The Philippines have lost penguins  now and then
Plaid isn?t a good color on anyone
Yeah, stay away from the plaid
And son
Keep in mind, Bo Derek was a ?10?
Don?t play jeopardy with a  refrigerator
It?s a whole lot smarter than you
Animals don?t wear rocket packs
No that?s just not what they do
And New York can?t fit in a purse
Don?t trade shoelaces with a nurse
And junior, oh junior
Those 13-day-old sandwiches are the  worst
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