The Aruba Trip
by Antaeus Balevre
It was two weeks before Aruba, and all through the house,
not a closet had clothes hanging, not even a blouse.
The dresses and shoes were all laid out with great care.
The clothes rack was full; no more could it bear.
There were dresses and blouses and slacks in a row.
Which ones would stay home, and which ones would go?
The grey one, the blue one, or something extreme?
I looked at the choices as if in a dream.
Then I picked up my jacket of dark midnight blue
and started to tremble, for I suddenly knew.
The jacket was purchased when I was a bit trim,
and the chances of it fitting were this side of slim.
It couldn't be that bad, so I plunged in my arm.
If it's snug, I'll remove it, no foul and no harm.
But I wouldn't be wearing that jacket this trip.
For when I went for the button, I heard a loud rip.
Next, I tried on my dress slacks, which had shrunk quite a bit.
Because try as I might, the waist wouldn't fit.
All that tugging and pulling had caused me to sweat.
Now, what can I do? My pits are all wet!
So, I gave up the battle and took off my shirt.
Then was promptly attacked by my wife's newest skirt.
I fought, and I struggled, then finally won.
But alas, in the battle, my pants came undone.
As I bent to retrieve them, my head hit the wall,
so I put out a hand to cushion my fall.
My hand hit the clothes rack, which started to sway.
So I reached out to grab it but pushed the wrong way.
I stood in amazement and gasped in surprise
as the unthinkable happened in front of my eyes.
The clothes that were folded and hung with such care
were now doing somersaults, high in the air.
I dove to retrieve them before they could fall,
but knew in my heart I couldn't save all.
My foot hit the clothes rack, and my head knocked the door.
The clothes fell about me as I lay on the floor.
My plight had not ended, I was in for it now.
For I heard from the doorway, a soft, little meow.
Then Hobbit, my housecat, meandered on in.
He lay on the clothes, and I swear, he did grin.
In less than a second, they were covered in fur.
He missed not a one, wherever they were.
The jacket, the blouses, the pants, and the shirt
now lay on the floor, all covered in dirt.
I stood, and I wondered, Gee, what can I do?
My wife would just kill me if she ever knew.
Then I did what men do when faced with such a plight:
I re-hung the clothes and turned out the light.
not a closet had clothes hanging, not even a blouse.
The dresses and shoes were all laid out with great care.
The clothes rack was full; no more could it bear.
There were dresses and blouses and slacks in a row.
Which ones would stay home, and which ones would go?
The grey one, the blue one, or something extreme?
I looked at the choices as if in a dream.
Then I picked up my jacket of dark midnight blue
and started to tremble, for I suddenly knew.
The jacket was purchased when I was a bit trim,
and the chances of it fitting were this side of slim.
It couldn't be that bad, so I plunged in my arm.
If it's snug, I'll remove it, no foul and no harm.
But I wouldn't be wearing that jacket this trip.
For when I went for the button, I heard a loud rip.
Next, I tried on my dress slacks, which had shrunk quite a bit.
Because try as I might, the waist wouldn't fit.
All that tugging and pulling had caused me to sweat.
Now, what can I do? My pits are all wet!
So, I gave up the battle and took off my shirt.
Then was promptly attacked by my wife's newest skirt.
I fought, and I struggled, then finally won.
But alas, in the battle, my pants came undone.
As I bent to retrieve them, my head hit the wall,
so I put out a hand to cushion my fall.
My hand hit the clothes rack, which started to sway.
So I reached out to grab it but pushed the wrong way.
I stood in amazement and gasped in surprise
as the unthinkable happened in front of my eyes.
The clothes that were folded and hung with such care
were now doing somersaults, high in the air.
I dove to retrieve them before they could fall,
but knew in my heart I couldn't save all.
My foot hit the clothes rack, and my head knocked the door.
The clothes fell about me as I lay on the floor.
My plight had not ended, I was in for it now.
For I heard from the doorway, a soft, little meow.
Then Hobbit, my housecat, meandered on in.
He lay on the clothes, and I swear, he did grin.
In less than a second, they were covered in fur.
He missed not a one, wherever they were.
The jacket, the blouses, the pants, and the shirt
now lay on the floor, all covered in dirt.
I stood, and I wondered, Gee, what can I do?
My wife would just kill me if she ever knew.
Then I did what men do when faced with such a plight:
I re-hung the clothes and turned out the light.
