Category: Children

Chio towels proclaiming “His” and “Hers”
Save much confusion, one avers;
I mean, of course, once we are grown,
For children fingerprint their own.

by Ray Romine Thursday, December 14, 1950

Though I like boys who will be boys,
I utter one aside squawk:
Why must they like to park a bike
Crossways upon the sidewalk?

by Ray Romine Saturday, September 24, 1949

One of the greatest disappointments on this outsize asteroid
is experienced upon getting your first gander at the
pan of someone named Gloria,
Which shows what being optimistic about your offspring when
they’re mere babies does foria.

Those so unfortunate as to be blessed with boy-babies have
discovered that to name one Hercules is to wind up
with a rather puny blighter;
But let them call him Wilberferce or Percival, and he’s
sure to grow cauliflower ears and be a prize-fighter.

So, future parents of America, take my excellent advice, and
you can turn this thing to your advantage
(If you know how to mantage.)

Simply name the kid the opposite of what you want it–even-
tually–to be;
Viz., the Chinese, wanting themselves a beautiful daughter,
tag the baby UG LEE.

If you desire a rich female child, instead of naming her
something ordinary like Alice or Carrie A. Nation,
Label her Starvation.

Or, if you want a boy ambitious in his callin’,
Why name him Joe–which is a guarantee he won’t be Stalin;

But if you want to be really cute,
And not handicap a child with a name that will influence
him at all, call him “Neutral” , which of course is
the full name for Newt.

Only the trouble here is newt is a sort of batrachian, if
not an amphibian,
Which would make it hard to predict what sort of life the
child might end up libian.

On the whole, then, I conclude it would be safer to ignore
the names, and just give the tot a number–
And let Nature take its course as to whether he or she
should be fat or thin, blighted or bright, an executive
or a plumber.

by Ray Romine Monday, August 16, 1948

There’s no dream he can’t see;
No thing he won’t attempt.
From things that hobble me,
He seems to be exempt.

O how trade now for then- –
The timid for the bold
Self-confidence back when
I too was eight years old?

by Ray Romine Saturday, January 31, 1953

Though wild disorder strews the room,
Store the weapons; banish gloom.
Smile a little, if you can,
The struggle’s over; daddy’s man,
Glad that his ordeal is past,
Has his first haircut–at last!

by Ray Romine Tuesday, September 20, 1949

Little Willie, clever keed, I’ll
Feed his sister thread and needle.
His object, which his folks think rich, is
Just to see his sis in stitches.

by Ray Romine Tuesday, September 12, 1950

Now that her training approaches fruition,
Daughter is thinking about a position;
But with those she assumes (quite enough to undo one)
What does she need, I inquire, with a new one?

by Ray Romine Saturday, May 24, 1952

Parenthood would have taken me less aback
Had I, in college, gone out for track.

by Ray Romine Friday, March 21, 1952

All your wild interrogation
Makes me wonder, little man, sir:
Ia it done for information,
Or to see if I can answer?

by Ray Romine Monday, May 1, 1950

Trusting little eyes of blue,
Pudgy hands–and gooey, too;

Little mouth that’s always yiping,
With a smile that’s needing wiping;

Darling, sniffly, runny nose;
Cutest (once-clean) well-cut clothes;

Little eyebrows, so well-loamed;
Yellow hair thats never combed;

Shapely ears, with remnants glued on
Of whatever last you chewed on;

How could you get any wetter?
(The less said here, perhaps, the better)

I’d trade you for a nice, clean Bison–
God, I’m glad you aren’t mison!

by Ray Romine Tuesday, October 15, 1946