On the Occasion of Her Majesty's Birthday

Hymn to Debbra

The woman who thinks she's my boss
Methinks finds herself at a loss
To explain why she's older
(Though we all have told her
There's more to good health than just floss).

This woman, born Debbie Moline,
Has given us much we can glean
From her charmed ways of living
(It involves much caregiving):
Her own home she'd rather not clean.

In Myers-Brigg talk, Deb's a P.
What that means for my life you'll soon see:
Because I'm a J,
There's simply no way
For her chores to be done without me.

All stand

Let's pray to the Babe in the manger
To keep our dear Deb free from danger
For many more years.
(More than prayer, we'll need beers,
And the help of a home health care stranger.)

Happy birthday, Deb!

Birthday greetings and comments shall follow the established meter.


Stephanie said...

Is her birthday on June 29 or 30? Please let it be on the 30th, so that I can claim I timed my return to the U.S. entirely in honor of the anniversary of her birth!

In any case, Happy Birthday, Deb! (The first Liberty will be on me.)

P.S. Scott, you forgot the most important label for this blog: "The Importance of Being J."

I have to go catch a plane now.

Anonymous said...

Scooter -

You shown yourself (again) as The Bard.
Choosing gifts (for Deb) has always been hard.
But you've left me bereft,
'cuz with rhymes I'm not deft.
So I guess I'll just go with a card.


deb said...


OK, I've had time to sit and savor this post. (Because of, you know, spending the day Caring For Others, which is My Work.) No one has ever written a poem for me before. Or is it a sonnet? Or maybe a limerick cycle?

Anyway, it's very very cool to have personal poetry, even if almost all of it leaves the naive reader with a mistaken impression of moi. (Is libel ever inadvertant? I suppose we should check.)

So, all right, I do delegate some routine tasks, but I want credit for the laundry I'm going to sort very soon now. And OK, yes, I do have a squadron of staffers, but that's only because I'm very busy and very important, and understand that the little people need jobs too. And *what* would Phil do if I didn't help him structure all of his pesky free time?

I'm not giving a lot of mental energy to my new age number, but it does kind of surprise me. I'm pretty sure I won't be able to double it. (Though I read recently of the death of a 115-year-old, so maybe I shouldn't assume.)

And OK, for the first time I flunked the eye chart without my glasses when we went to renew our driver's licenses last week, but do you think that means I couldn't read or interpret the tiny type that is the blog tag words?


Dang. That is a really good poem.

Thank you.

deb said...

PS I'm so surprised that somebody took a photo of me that afternoon.

deb said...

PS to Stephanie: June 30 at 3:15 AM in Seattle.

deb said...

PS to everyone: you may be seated.

Anonymous said...

To bad the picture caught you with your 'clown crown' ... wacky.


Meema said...

Belated though this wish may be,
It's rife with all sincerity.
Deb's natal day comes,
God raises two thumbs,
And the readers here roundly agree.

So celebrate well, Blogger-Sous,
With fam'ly and friends à côté de vous.
With custard perhaps
(Along with more naps)
This year you'll take most kindly to!