Saturday, 25 January 2020

OTHER PEOPLE’S CHILDREN


My home is my castle, stylish and classy,
Eclectic design with a splash of sassy.
Upon announcing that our family was growing,
The news was met with joy and a sense of foreboding.
Shocked as we swore never to procreate,
Friends laughed amused by this twist of fate.
They said "You'll love your child, but your home will never be the same."
“Prepare for messes, wall destruction and furniture mame!”
Thankful for their caution, I vehemently disagreed,
For our child will be raised to be well-behaved indeed!
Taught not to touch without first asking permission,
Adults and kids living in symbiosis was our vision.
With our darling munchkin's arrival,
Determined to ensure our adult survival.
Lilliputan-friendly spaces were fostered.
Promising amiable living our lives not to be doctored.
The three of us plodding along in harmonious coexistence.
After time passed did that advice begin to make sense.
Puzzled by how friends used to compliment our taste.
How could they now come in and disrespect our space?
For it was not our child who wreaked havoc and mayhem,
It was their little monsters who were creators of bedlam.
Why is it when kiddies entered the scene,
Our ‘friends’ enabled their children's behaviour so obscene?
Screaming loudly and jumping on my furniture,
Proving a wrestling career only lay in their future.
Without asking they fed their rugrats on our velvet chair,
Spilling their drink and leaving crumbs everywhere!
Dumbfounded I wondered if they'd heard of a plate,
I'd like to lock them up with their kids in my dog's crate!
Taunting our dog resulting in barking like he's in prison,
These little monsters and their procreators caused in us an aneurism!
Touching anything in sight without asking first!
Destroying our belongings my temper about to burst!
Driving us insane without a care in the world,
These parents do not discipline their unruly herd.
‘Do they do this at home?’ I wondered in a moment contemplation.
Surely they must as it's furnished like a third world nation.
Adding insult to injury they talk about their kids non-stop,
Incessant one-sided chatter about them causes my head to pop!
Love your babes but no one wants to hear a narrative play-by-play,
About each fart, ounce of food, spit up and everything they do everyday.
Worse still they inquire nothing about my petite wonder.
My anger is bubbling in my heart I feel the rumble of thunder!
No matter how you choose to live this home is mine, not yours!
Please remove your kids at once for their behaviour I abhor!
Angel faced children only a mother could love,
Ones that were not heaven sent from above.
No longer a fan of other people's children,
My home will they never again be in.
While I admit any child can be messy and overly excited at times,
Outside of your home parents don't enable, make them tow the line.
And when your friend has a child after which you should inquire and don't,
You cannot expect such friendship to last as it won't.
So for now I put our friendship and your kids out to pasture to roam,
Leave my house, learn to reciprocate, but leave your kids at home!



© 2020. Naomi Elana Zener. All Rights Reserved.

Sunday, 22 December 2019

Rockin’ Around the Menorah by Naomi Elana Zener


Rockin' around the Menorah,
At the Chanukah party jam.
Latkes cooking for you to eat,
Chocolate gelt but there’s no ham.

Rockin' around the Menorah,
Let the Chanukah candles shine.
Later we’ll spin the dreidel fast,
And drink Manischevitz wine.

You will start to kvell and feel pride when you hear:
Nun! Gimel! Hey! Shin! I win!
Break out Chanukah tonic and gin!

Rockin' around the Menorah,
Eight days of party fun.
Lots of gifts but there’s no tree,
Or baby Jesus for anyone.

You will start to kvell and feel pride when you hear:
Nun! Gimel! Hey! Shin! I win!
Break out Chanukah tonic and gin!
Rockin' around the Menorah,
Let the Chanukah candles shine.
Later we’ll spin the dreidel fast,
And drink Manischevitz wine!


© 2019. Naomi Elana Zener. All Rights Reserved.

[Author's note: Did you know that some of Christmas’ greatest hit songs were written by Jews, including Johnny Mark’s Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree. In honour of Chanukah, here’s a little parody for you to enjoy! Happy Chanukah!]

Sunday, 24 November 2019

Nanny Park by Naomi Elana Zener


Palpitations increase upon my approach,
The glares and stares I know I'll soon broach.
As I enter the buzzing nanny park,
A new reality exposed and stark.
The hush of the whispers collectively hum,
"Is that a mother? From where did she come?"
The lone ranger I stand isolated in an unfriendly crowd,
Nanny secrets revealed from behind the mysterious shrowd.
Caregivers dressed well in Rock and Republic mixed with Juicy,
Boss ladies' closets are on display in front of me.
Standing at attention, each nanny quickly looking for their ward,
Hoping I do not see the kiddies standing around quite bored.
Or worse yet, running around recklessly sans supervision, 
If their bosses found out of nanny's incompetence, it to be met with derision.
Accutely aware of being watched, like 007 I'm a spy,
Their negligent babysitting will be caught by my watchful eye.
For prior to my daytime entry into the nannies' clubhouse,
Amok were children running from a kid waving a dead mouse.
Nannies off to the side huddled gossiping in their native tongue,
Nary a nursery rhyme being told, nor a kids' song sung.
Babes playing with discarded garbage, with it hitting each other,
A toddler atop another, with a blanket trying to smother.
Paid to parent while mother and father at work earning their keep,
Expected to care for these babes, not calling them mother-bleep!
Talk of cheating hubbies, which family is drowing in debt,
Plans for nannypalooza weekends are being set.
Comparing salaries, bonuses, and every little perk,
Doing everything else but for their paid work.
But like a hostage in a terrorist situation,
Women can't both mother and work full-time in a Western nation.
So when nannies are preferred to a daycare arrangement,
Parents for their choice judged awaiting arraignment.
This is not an endorsement for daycare replete with its own pitfalls,
Disease incubators, teachers outnumbered within four walls.
Thoughts pondered en route to my home unwired for a nanny-cam,
Denial, depression, bargaining, anger, and acceptance of this nanny scam.
Defeated, deflated yet keenly aware of my lack of choice,
A lesson to be learned through my satirical voice.
To not see, hear or speak of nanny evil, will give your mind rest,
Wearing rose coloured glasses to see nanny is what's best.
To avoid chagrin mamas, up this tree do not bark.
Rather, visit the playground only after dark.



© 2019. Naomi Elana Zener. All Rights Reserved.