Albert Anker, Swiss
“Actually, Kids, Since Your Mother Used To Sleep Around a Bit, I’d Prefer To Call It ‘Most-Likely-But-Not-Conclusively-Your-Father’s Day,'” 1884
Oil on canvas
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/// His four grandchildren all gathered ‘round.
They are rapt, and not making a sound.
Each day grandpa regales
the kids with his tall tales.
His deep voice makes b.s. sound profound.
/// He brags how he invented Swiss Cheese:
heating goat’s milk to ninety degrees;
adding rennet and brine;
but his secret design
was to create the holes with a sneeze.
/// When he claimed he arranged the detente,
Grandpa’s tone of voice was nonchalant.
“Gave each side what they want—
a fresh chocolate croissant.”
(He’s an idiot not so savant.)
/// Every grandchild expressly ignores
how each oft-told unlikely tale bores.
They look forward each day
to smile at what he’ll say.
While they’re with him they needn’t do chores.
/// His slogans are faux-patriotic,
but his voting tends toward the despotic.
Grandpa’s no doubt psychotic,
loving all things chaotic.
Could it be that his brains are necrotic?