Mama Won't Make Pants
Mama is a wonderful girl
There's nothing that she can't
Fix or do or make come true
But Mama won't make pants.
When I was in Junior High School
Mama made my clothes
And all my school friends laughed at me
'Cause they always seemed to know.
Now, Mama would make the prettiest shirts
And jackets fit for kings
But Mama wouldn't make me pants
She just couldn't do those things.
So I walked around in my hometown
My bare legs hanging out
I'd freeze in winter and when I went into
A restaurant, they'd throw me out.
No girl would escort me to the prom
They didn't want to be seen
With a bottomless boy without his pants
And they treated me real mean.
I often complained to Mama back then
But she never paid me mind
She sewed and glowed and covered my back
But barely my poor behind.
Now, where was my dad in all of this?
Was he in or out or neither?
Well, mostly he stayed in the back of the house
(And I never saw him wearing pants either.)
One day I joined the army
And to my great surprise
They handed me a suit with long pants to boot
And the sarge stared into my eyes.
"Boy, we got some rules 'round here
And you better learn 'em fast
You better learn to shoot this gun
And you better cover your a--!"
Well, time went on and I adjusted
And I learned to dress myself
But in my closet there were all Mom's suits
With no pants upon the shelf.
Every Christmas, she'd send me stuff
That she'd sewed with joy and pride
And I sent her letters with pictures of me
Wearing that stuff inside.
And all around her living room
Hanging on her walls
Are photos of her fair haired boy
And even down the halls.
A bottomless boy in evening wear
A bottomless boy in tux
The Halloween costume she made for me
When I went as a bottomless duck.
The graduation picture that I took with delight
When my Mom was so proud of me
There on my nap sits my mortar board cap
And there is my gown and my knees.
My wedding picture on that glorious day
When I wedded the girl of my dreams
And took her away down to Honeymoon Bay
(I can still hear her mother's sad screams.)
"He has no pants!" I heard her exclaim
"How can you marry that boy?"
But my bride didn't mind if I showed my behind
'Cause back then, I was her love and her joy.
Now, there's the picture I'm most fond of
Yeah, that's my little lad
Wearing his shirt and boots and looking so cute
Standing beside his dad.
But my lady love, she left me
Some years ago, you see
For a rich man in pants at the Masquerade Dance
And she turned up her nose at me.
And Junior never calls me now
In fact, he's disappeared
Left this town and can't be found
Just like I always feared.
As he grew older, he grew ashamed
Of his Daddy and he strayed
His friends made fun of me for years
But an old man can't change his ways.
And Mama, she still sews a little bit
But mostly she fusses at Pop
And cooks me nice things and makes rags out of jeans
And I can't make her stop.
My life has changed, been rearranged
And I can't change that, I can't
And if there's a reason for the way I turned out
It's 'cause Mama would not make me pants.
At least, that's what I tell myself
As I sit here in "The Home"
Wearing a shirt and tie and looking so spry
But the nurses all leave me alone.
And every Sunday, my Mama comes
To bring me food and stuff
And makes me try on some new garment
('Cause Mama still is tough.)
Little socks and flowered shirts
And I let her or she rants
She dresses me like a baby doll
But she never brings me pants.
©By Voo
Dec 11, 2004
3 p.m.
(Inspired by a true story about a man who shall remain nameless
as long as he keeps sending me a monthly check!! )
Oh, okay, his name is Dirk...................Something.
