Mother Unshames Son

Mother Unshames Son    
        
“Johnny, I’m concerned
about your sleep patterns        
I hear your bed creaking like a trampoline          
In need of grease at three in the morning        
This isn’t a normal mother and son discussion        
But your father left us in the lurch        
Hence it is in incumbent upon me to tell you        
Stop muh muhing your mosher at midnight.”        
“What are you talking about Mom?”        
“Do I have to spell it out for you?        
You know exactly what I’m talking about.        
You don’t have to educate me          
about boys your age          
but do it before midnight.        
I’m sure your sea cucumber will understand.”        
“There you go again          
with that weird terminology, Mom”        
“Hey I could write an excuse          
to Ms. Eva, the truancy officer,          
Explaining that my son was late for class          
Because he was bobbing his knob        
And I was too embarrassed to stop him.        
The Mom biz ain’t always a class act.        
I’m trying my best to keep          
as much dignity as possible.        
And if you ask me, not that you would,          
I’m doing a darn good job.        
But please for my sake
don’t use your underwear.        
That gets messy and icky          
for me the maid of the house.”        
His mother collected herself  
into her signature hennish poise,          
“Your nocturnal athleticism    
Is a good aerobic workout    
But getting all sweaty under the sheets    
Just makes you need a shower    
When sleep flies away like a witch on her broom.    
I hope you’re using a lubricant.        
For me to accompany you to the doctor          
for chafing would be mortifying.”