Oh, Butt, Where Art Thou?

Once upon a time, our butts froze off while watching a baseball game. I found this poem in my notes.


Oh, Butt, Where Art Thou?

I'd like to know if you've seen my butt,
It left at my son's baseball game.
The wind was slapping at my face,
But the bleachers were really to blame.

They beckoned to me, said, "Park your tush here,
We vow to be safe and sturdy.
We promise good vibes, all three ups three downs,
No matter you're skinny or curvy."

So I said, "Why not?" and plopped my bags down,
Happy to have a good seat.
To sit and cheer and ooh and ahh,
The only thing lacking was heat.

The joke was on me, the bleachers, they lied,
The wind only scattered my tears.
Our seats were all frozen, the bleachers just served
As magnets to hold down our rears.

If this poem were true, we'd all be much lighter,
We can't lose our butts, we aren't dumb.
It's just that the feeling is still coming back
From those hours of staying so numb.

"Never forget!" I tell myself,
As I pack extra pants in the trunk.
Next time I'll be ready, you butt thieving benches,
My new foe; who would've thunk.

Bucky