My mother came to spend the night
to babysit last week.
When I got home at nine A.M.
her overtone was bleak.
She soaked her teeth beside the bed
where they were safe and sound.
But when she woke, oddly enough,
they're nowhere to be found.
My six year old came strolling in
with all his smiles and charm.
He had our little, shabby dog
snug tightly in his arm.
In shock, I jumped to block her view,
to stop my Billy's stride.
I tried my hardest not to laugh.
Believe me, folks, I tried.
Billy stuck my mother's teeth
into our puppy's mouth.
The atmosphere of love and joy
was quickly headed south.
I shook my head and let him pass.
That's all that I could do.
He held up Rosco in her face,
"Hey look, Grandma, he's you."
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