A poem for the Father of the Bride

My Daddy-MON
by Mery McNett

When I was a little girl,
a ponytail with a little bit of curl,
you told me that I was filled with sugar and spice,
mixed in with just a dash of nice.

On my birthday when I turned three,
I proudly declared "He Daddy man!";
calling you "Uncle Bob" was just plain crazy.

Even though that was terribly cute
what I said next made me laugh 'till I let out a lil' toot.
You weren't "Uncle Bob", and "Daddyman" was a good ploy,
but I thought that the name you wanted most was the lovely "Fat Boy".


At bedtime a stage was lit, the curtains pulled,
and "The Show of the Bear" was performed
a memory that I keep lovingly capsuled.
And let's not forget good ol' Mr. Poopy-Putt-Putt,
whose antics were like a routine of Lou Costello and Bud Abbott.
And the stories of when you were a little boy always had me in stitches,
especially when you sat outside eating fig-newtons,
listening to your friend get kicked his britches.

Remember the first time we saw a cartoon fart?
It was Ren in a bathtub.
That memory is locked deep in my heart.

As I got older, my hormones made me scream, cry and yell,
and my young life's decisions were not made very well.
I have had a hard time becoming an adult,
and since I inherited my anxiety from you,
Its all your fault!

I'm really just kidding! I know I was a stoopid kid,
But being there for me when I need you
was something you always did.

Now I'm  an adult, but not yet really rightfully considered one,
but no matter how old I get and where I go,
you will always be my "Daddy-MON".............................

.............NO FAT BOY!