Dad bound up the front stairs with a huge urge
Peeled off his coat, hurried into the bathroom
Slammed the door, feeling an urgent fecal surge
Drop his pants, got comfortable on the throne
Relieved himself, however, when he tried to stand
No matter how much he shimmied and swayed…
He was utterly stuck! He needed a helping hand
See, Mom had painted the walls and the toilet seat
Swear words pierced through the bathroom door
Mom fetched a rag, drenched it with turpentine
She dabbed and pulled, he was up, but butt sore
His backside had an outline of the seat for a week
Mom was known as “Paint Brush Mary”
Painting the rooms in the house and anything else
We teased Dad, his nickname, “Stuckee, Harry”
By far, painting was Mom’s favorite thing to do
We kids would tell the stuck story
When family and friends gathered
Recounting Dad’s droll defamatory
Even Dad would laugh in later years
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