And here’s the same picture with a little bit of editing: =)

Have no fear! Paul is here!

“I wrote a poem of how my mother likes salad,

She also loves chocolate, so I’ll write a ballad,

Of how my Mother likes chocolate so greatly,

Her chocolate collection is quite large and stately.

I wrote about greens before chocolate you see,

For if I said we ate tons of chocolate, I’d get no pity.”

Here’s another poem  I wrote, by the request of my dear mother:

“I really like food, don’t get me wrong.

I wish I could eat it all the day long.

Pumpkin pie and piping hot turkey,

Steaks and bratwurst and chewy beef jerky,

Potatoes and broccoli and even green beans,

But by all means, please don’t serve me greens.

We eat them at breakfast, inside a shake,

We eat them at lunch, with nary a break,

We eat them at dinner with dressing on top,

We eat them all day- we never stop!

But Mother, she likes them; she gobbles them down,

She eats them all day with never a frown,

Because she likes them I’ll eat them you see,

But if I’m at your house, don’t give greens to me!”

P.S. We don’t eat greens every single meal of the day!

“A while ago Mom came up with a plan:

“We’ll convert the garage! I know we can!”

Little did we know, when we began,

How long this monstrous task would span.

We started out with lots of vigor,

But soon our doubts got much bigger,

We thought we’d never get it done,

Our task began to lose it’s fun.

We tore out old wood and insulated,

That task was itchy and very hated.

I tore down the doors, and cut my head,

It really hurt, it bled quite red.

But Mother she was not concerned,

No emergency room for me I learned.

The pain was bad, it cut me in two,

I didn’t know if I’d pull through.

Without going to a hospital room,

I thought I’d end up in my tomb.

Between life and death  I hovered,

But my strong body then recovered.

We then began to build new walls,

A large hard task that was not smalls.

We used a lot of 2 by 4’s,

And made much sawdust on the floor.

We then put a lot of siding,

It was not all that exciting.

But once twas done it looked quite good-

Much better than old rotten wood.

We then ran wires through the studs,

Got more dust upon our duds.

We had friends over to celebrate,

But still we hadn’t escaped the fate,

Of working in bonus room till we grow long beards,

That’s exactly what I feared,

When Mother said she had a plan,

Of bonus room work I’m not a fan.

But whatever happened I always loved Mother,

She’s a better lady than any other.

I’ll always love her til earth does end,

She’s so great I don’t have to pretend.

I’ll always try to be kind and good,

I’ll always be thankful for her yummy food.

I’ll try to be nice and not to steamroll,

And not on her brain to take a large toll.

I love you dear Mother! Happy birthday!

I wrote this big poem so I could just say,

I love you, I love you, I love you again.

You are the best of all the women!”

(P.S. I did get hit on the head when I was renovating our garage, I did bleed “quite red”, and I didn’t go to the ER, but I never was quite on the brink of death)