"Permagosh"

A Rainy Day Invention

Like almost all of my poetry for children, this story is true. Each poem is written from a child’s point of view, the point of view of the child it came from. If it was a grandson, or another boy, you’ll find the poem is written from a little boy’s perspective. The same is true if it came from a little girl.

Some of you know me from Quora, or maybe you know me from Facebook, LinkedIn, Twitter, or my YouTube Channel.  But if you don’t know me at all, I’m happy to tell you, I have three beautiful grown daughters and they’ve given me eleven wonderful grandchildren.

I love children and I love being with them. I also love writing for and about them.  They keep my inner child alive and alert and then I have the worst time keeping her out of trouble.  She doesn’t care how old this outer body is, she pulled a Peter Pan and never grew up.  She still expects me to act her age.

That’s a major reason I love it when one of my girls calls and says, “Mom, you aren’t going to believe what (insert name) did!”  I say I love it, because they couldn’t possibly tell me something I haven’t heard or seen before from one of them when they were children.

Kids are naturally curious.  They don’t mean to do things that will upset grownups.  They’re just testing their wings and our patience.  I’ve never known a bad child, just ornery ones.

This is a true backstory …

I remember one time when they were about five, seven and nine.  I heard them giggling and having a good time doing something –-they were getting along well and (most mothers will agree), that always pleased me, especially on a rainy day like today when tempers have a way of flaring up.

After a while, I finished what I was doing and I thought I would join the fun.  I found all three of them in the bathroom with a very large mixing bowl and three wooden spoons.  They were stirring something that was kinda-sorta green. It was soupy, lumpy and puffy and it smelled really bad.

I had to ask, “What IS that … stuff?”

All three proudly replied, "Mommy, guess what? We invented Permagosh!"  I listened as they told me step by step about their ... um  .. invention.  I can’t resist writing about these little afternoons of fun:

 ‘Permagosh’

Mommy's on the couch.
Daddy's in his chair.
We’re in a corner on our stools ...
yeah, they put us there

'cause we did somethin' naughty
we’re not supposed to do.
We invented Permagosh
mixing things with their shampoo.

First, a real long worm of toothpaste,
then a cloud of shaving cream,
then two glugs of mouthwash
('cause we love the color green).

We stirred it in a mixing bowl.
Boy, it smelled real good!
It was even looking better
than we ever thought it would.

Could it be a cure for cancer?
Take the itch from skeeter bites?
Or maybe heal a sunburn
when it hurts to sleep at night?

Two shakes of baby powder
made it WAY too hard to stir,
so we added mommy's perfume.
Permagosh smelled just like her.

Then the bowl tipped over.
Permagosh spilled on the floor
and when we turned around,
our mom was at the door.

Now Mommy's on the couch.
Daddy's in his chair.
We’re in a corner on our stools ...
yeah, they put us there.
*

All’s well that ends well … that’s why I’m rarely surprised when they call with a story about one of theirs!  I love ‘em all …