Pick Me a Winner

Being a dad is easily the best job in the whole world.

I love my daughters with everything that I have got, and have no wish to father sons, no innate desire to hand my name down to the ages, and, as the following poem shows, I will get me some sons one day.

I just hope they are good guys.

PICK ME A WINNER

I feel sorry for you, dad,” said she.
The words fell on his heart like lead.
He was surprised at how much he disliked
Hearing the words that she had said.

“Why would you feel sorry for me?”
His surprise evident in his voice
“Because you don’t have any sons,
You’ve got daughters, you had no choice.”

He looked at her, this gorgeous girl,
And he just leaned over and kissed her.
“I could not have asked for better kids
Than I got with you and your sister.”

He smiled at her, the ways dads do
This child he could not help but adore
“You both are everything I’ve ever dreamt
You are all this and much, much more.”

“I know that, dad, you always say that.”
And she hugged him extra tight.
Then she looked at him with big brown eyes
And said, “But you still wanted sons, right?”

“Not any more,” he said to his girl
“I know I will have them some day.
When you and your sister get married
I’ll get me two sons that way.”

“So my sons are sort of in your hands,”
He smiled again, and held her tight.
“So do me a favor and make a wise choice
And pick me a winner, all right?”

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This poem appeared in "Breathing for Clouds" available from Big Table Publishing.

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©2009 Christopher Reilley

 
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