Today isn’t my mother-in-law’s birthday, but here’s the poem I wrote for her when it was:
Some birthdays are bigger than others, and this is one such year.
When these milestones arrive, you should enjoy them with extra cheer.
Forget the rules, eat what you want, take cake and eat a bunch.
Don’t listen to your idiot friends, try not to drink too much.
Embrace your birthday, live it up, and all the days between,
because it is your special day, now that you’re sixteen.
What’s that? What did you say? You’re sixty not sixteen?
Wow, you’re like…waaaay older than you seem.
You’d better sit down, this advice might be a little harder to hear,
and anyway, at your age, your legs might give out I fear.
DO I NEED TO SPEAK LOUDER? Is your hearing okay?
I want to make sure you can understand what I’m about to say.
That advice I gave was terrible, please listen to your friends.
They might not have that long to live before they meet their ends.
Maybe put some cake back, how much do you really need?
I think prunes and fiber are more your body’s speed.
I hope that this is good advice, I hope you find it useful.
When I say don’t drink too much, I’m talking Metamucil.
It’s not all bad news though, being elderly,
because of all the wisdom gained in your long history.
Us younger folk depend on your advice to get us through,
and value all the different things that we’ve been taught by you.
You help us live a better life by sharing hardships, joys, and fears
accumulated through your many, many, MANY years.