Dear Merchants (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane
It’s Black Friday — you want us to shop,
To spend all of our money, non-stop.
But I won’t spend a dime
Cuz I’d rather spend time
Writing rhymes I could trade. Care to swap?
Dear Merchants (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane
It’s Black Friday — you want us to shop,
To spend all of our money, non-stop.
But I won’t spend a dime
Cuz I’d rather spend time
Writing rhymes I could trade. Care to swap?
Thanks to all of you for your kind emails, comments, and Twitter tweets about my mother’s death. I really appreciate it!
In my mother’s honor, I’m posting a 1996 humor column she inspired during happier (and funnier) times:
Secret Shopper
By Madeleine Begun Kane
“I’m not going in there. No way. Forget it.”
My seventy-something mother’s stance was as rigid as her words; arms folded across her chest, unyielding legs pointed away from the shop I’d just suggested.
She and I had spent the entire afternoon combing through three department stores for the definitive pair of panties. Or at least my mom’s idea of same. This illusive undergarment had to be loose, comfortable, 100% cotton, and totally devoid of lace. And that was just for starters. It also had to completely cover my mother’s hips and come in a large size, the exact number of which she resolutely refused to disclose. … (Secret Shopper is continued here.)
“I’m not going in there. No way. Forget it.”
My seventy-something mother’s stance was as rigid as her words; arms folded across her chest, unyielding legs pointed away from the shop I’d just suggested.
She and I had spent the entire afternoon combing through three department stores for the definitive pair of panties. Or at least my mom’s idea of same. This illusive undergarment had to be loose, comfortable, 100% cotton, and totally devoid of lace. And that was just for starters. It also had to completely cover my mother’s hips and come in a large size, the exact number of which she resolutely refused to disclose. … (Secret Shopper is continued here.)