By John Gaston

Twas the first of December,
As close as I can remember.
A broken water line under mi casa
Had my back and legs feeling like "CACA!"

But Bubba wouldn't take no for an excuse-
So off to the park to shake something lose.
Off we went, me with my booms and Z with his trike.
I wanted to die, he wanted to hike.

My first toss fell short and a little to the left.
The breeze got the next and it flew over my head.
They lay on the ground as I comtemplated their fate,
Bending over was an idea that didn't sound so great.

The third toss was a perfect strike,about thigh high.
Feeling better I grabbed a pair of Sunshines and let them fly.
Strikes two and three follow each other
I was beginning to groove in the beautiful weather.

A delicate arch and a Balin followed zap, zap.
No matter what I threw it landed in my lap.
An hour passed and Bubba was famished,
So back to the house for a pb&j sandwich.

Grilled some steaks, and had a glass of wine.
Soaked in the spa and I'm feeling fine.
If it weren't for booms, what would I do.
Guess I could be the old "man" in the Shoe!

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Changes last made on: December 2, 2010