Summer at Grandma’s House

by Eric Ode

My parents, they sent me to Grandma’s this summer.
They said it would do me some good.
They hoped I’d return at the end of vacation
behaving the way that I should.

My grandma is someone I love without measure,
but she can be terribly strict.
And so, when my folks chose a summertime sitter,
my grandma’s the person they picked.

They packed me a suitcase and bought me a ticket.
My train left the station at four.
And sure as my grandma eats oatmeal for breakfast,
I quickly arrived at her door.

I thought I’d be taught about culture and manners
and find myself soundly corrected.
But staying at Grandmother’s house for the summer
is nothing like I had expected.

I grunt and I belch and I don’t take a shower.
I act like a wild chimpanzee.
I’m living on cookies and ice cream and pizza
and watching late-late night TV.

My parents, they never told Grams I was coming.
I guess that is perfectly plain.
And Grandma, it seems, never told Mom and Dad
she was spending the summer in Spain.


Text © Eric Ode, reprinted from What I Did on My Summer Vacation (forthcoming from Meadowbrook Press). Illustration © Stephen Carpenter. Any copying or use of this poem or illustration without consent is unlawful.

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