All aboard, for now we’re going;
Put that suitcase in the rear.
Everyone’s serene but mother–
And I know that look, I fear.
Slam the door and start the engine;
Thence away? But then, alas,
Mother yells to wait a minute:
Who turned off the cook-stove gas?
When the kids are tucked in safely
And I’m settled with a book,
Mother snores, and starts, and wakes up:
“Was the gas out? Go and look.”
If the girls are ever perfect,
They will have their hats to doff
To the chap who turns their ranges
Automatically off!
by Ray Romine Monday, September 17, 1945
