Category: Children

Don’t make those unbelieving sounds
That leave your tonsils flapping,
For children grow by leaps and bounds–
Especially when I’m napping.

by Ray Romine Thursday, September 11, 1952

Why is it that Junior, at time to retire,
Has all the resolve of a never-say-dier
Who rounds up his interests and takes them to bed
Where they chase all the sleepiness out of his head?
So he kicks and he tosses and clamors for water,
(One fourth animation and three-quarters blotter)
And finally succumbs, at the promise of mayhem,
To fight just as hard to stay in bed come a.m.

by Ray Romine Sunday, September 4, 1949

He’s mama’s dirt-detector,
And he doesn’t seem to mind it.
Clean house, and him, and turn him loose,
And watch him find it!

by Ray Romine Monday, February 18, 1952

When bubble-gum’s acquired with ease,
Her cheeks outline parentheses;
When bedtime tiptoes through the dark,
She becomes a question-mark;
Say something slightly out-of-joint,
And she’s an exclamation point!
She’s the quickest sort of dash
When it’s “Gimme, Daddy!” (Cash)
Prize of all, though, is when Mamma
Tries to have her make haste comma,
Then, excuses near a myriad,
She slows down to nothing. Period.

by Ray Romine Thursday, April 5, 1951

We planned at first that she should be
A lady, but why bother?
She knows, at twelve, thanks to TV,
More fight terms than her father.

by Ray Romine Saturday, November 4, 1950

While it’s hard just yet
To tell from here,
He could wind up
An auctioneer.

by Ray Romine Friday, March 24, 1950

I thank you, manufacturers,
(So should the dogs and sparrows)
For your putting rubber suction cups
Upon the ends of arrows.

But too, most fathers in the morgue
Could be out on the fairways
If you could make your roller-skates
Remove themselves from stairways.

by Ray Romine Friday, September 20, 1946

“How fast they growl” their mother sighs,
Waxing sentimental;
Dad sees ’em outgrow their clothes and knows
His sentiment’s incidental.

by Ray Romine Wednesday, September 21, 1949

Let me tell you as you riot,
Noisy boy with lots of cheek,
In my search for peace and quiet
You’re the LAST thing I would seek!

by Ray Romine Saturday, April 8, 1950

Said Sandra Jean to Cara Sue:
“What we’ll play is up to you–
Tell me what you’d like to do.”
She answered: ”I don’t Cara Sue.”

by Ray Romine Wednesday, April 14, 1943