On the Matter of Cheese

Our dining room table is so very long
I call on my phone to ask, “Can you pass the cheese?”
And I wait for a while, then the phone rings again
It’s my Mom and she tells me, “Dear, you didn’t say please.”
So I wait half an hour then I call back again;
I say quite politely, “Mother, did you forget?”
I’ve been waiting and waiting for a small bit of cheese,
And as of this moment it hasn’t come yet.”
Then a man on a bike pulls up next to my chair;
He hands me the cheese– then the moment I dread:
The phone rings again: “Hello son, it’s Mother
It’s almost eight thirty – please hop off to bed.”
So I dash off a memo as quick as I can,
“On the matter of cheese, “ then I write below:

GO TO BED? WHAT? I DON’T GET IT! YOU PEOPLE ARE DRIVING ME CRAZY WITH THIS STUPID LONG TABLE AND PHONE CALLS AND MY NOT GETTING ANY CHEESE- ALL I WANTED WAS A LITTLE BIT OF CHEESE, BUT NOOOOOOOO! A TEENY, TINY, ITSY BIT OF CHEESE! A MORSEL! –AND I NEVER GET TO SEE YOU EXCEPT THROUGH A TELESCOPE AND WHAT KIND OF A WAY IS THIS TO HAVE FAMILY? WILL YOU TELL ME THAT? MY BEST FRIEND JOHNNY SEES HIS FAMILY AT DINNER TIME AND I BET HE GETS CHEESE WHEN HE WANTS IT. IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK? SOME FAMILY TIME, AND A LITTLE BIT OF CHEESE?

And I sign it respectfully, your son, Joe

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