November 26, 2013

John’s Mom and Dad were full of joy,
It was thanksgiving time for their little boy.
There was turkey and ham and peas, piled high
And yams and nuts and apple pie;

And special bread that grandmother made
That was thick with butter and marmalade
Johnny thought the food was splendid
Even while his gut distended.

Thanksgiving was what this food was for.
So giving thanks he stuffed in more.
“John!” cried Granny, “Don’t get ill.
If you eat more, you surely will!”

The wise advice was, of course, ignored
As John enjoyed the smorgasbord,
And the food, making up for the space it lacked
Cascaded down his intestinal track

Coming at last to that dangerous spot
The vestigial little appendix slot
Well that’s the place a pea selected
To settle down, undetected.

And there it festered, causing trouble
‘Til John, in pain, was bent up double.
Thanks to a hit of stray detritus
Rotten John had appendicitis

Antibiotics and a surgeon’s knife
Preserved our little Johnny’s life,
And after a costly hospital stay
John lived to eat another day.

And eat he did, but with greater caution
He’d learned to take a smaller portion!

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