Posts Tagged ‘Parental Humor’

UPDATE: Due to a family health situation, I have to extend this Limerick-Off by one week. The new deadline for entries is February 9 at 10 pm. (Eastern Time) — Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: PLANE, PLAIN, COMPLAIN, Or EXPLAIN at the end of any one line

Saturday, January 19th, 2019

It’s Limerick-Off time, once again. And that means I write a limerick, and you write your own, using the same rhyme word. Then you post your limerick(s) as a comment to this post and, if you’re a Facebook user, on Facebook too.

I hope you’ll join me in writing limericks using PLANE, PLAIN, COMPLAIN, or EXPLAIN at the end of any one line. (Homonyms or homophones are fine.)

The best submission will be crowned Limerick-Off Award Winner. (Here’s last week’s Limerick-Off Award Winner.)

Additionally, you may write themed limericks related to LIGHTING, using any rhyme word. And of course I’ll present an extra award — one for the best LIGHTING-related limerick.

How will your poems be judged? By meter, rhyme, cleverness, and humor. (If you’re feeling a bit fuzzy about limerick writing rules, here’s my How To Write A Limerick article.)

I’ll announce the winners on February 10, 2019, right before I post the next Limerick-Off. So that gives you three full weeks to submit your clever, polished verse. Your submission deadline is Saturday, February 9, 2019 at 10:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)

Here’s my limerick:

When a girl told her mom she was bored,
Her mother grew angry and roared:
“How dare you COMPLAIN!
Can’t you see I’m in pain?
Go play house, or I’m cutting the cord.”

Please feel free to enter my Limerick-Off by posting your limerick(s) in my comments. And if you’re on Facebook, I hope you’ll join my friends in that same activity on my Facebook Limerick-Off post.

To receive an email alert whenever I post a new Limerick-Off, please email Madkane@MadKane.com Subject: MadKane’s Newsletter. Thanks!

A Fishy Tale (Limerick)

Wednesday, February 6th, 2013

Yesterday, when I posted this anecdote about my mother-in-law on Facebook, several friends urged me to turn it into a limerick. And so, I’ve done just that. (My limerick is right below the anecdote.)

True story: Sunday night, Mark kept anxiously re-dialing his elderly mother. When she finally answered, her voice sounded very upset as she said, “A terrible thing happened.” Then she paused, as Mark’s heart skipped several beats.

His mother’s next words were: “They stopped making my salmon.”

(She was referring to her favorite canned salmon, which actually is still available, but was out of stock in the two stores she’d been to.)

And now, the limerick:

A Fishy Tale (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

“Something awful has happened,” she cried,
And then paused. We thought someone had died.
That’s Mark’s mom at her best:
Her horror expressed
About salmon no longer supplied.

A Dog Of A Limerick

Sunday, April 25th, 2010

I hope you’ll join me in writing a limerick with this first line:

A wealthy old woman named Kate…

Here’s mine:

A Dog Of A Limerick
By Madeleine Begun Kane

A wealthy old woman named Kate
Left her dog an enormous estate.
Her children all stewed
Till they finally sued.
Who won? Well, each lawyer did great.

Please feel free to write your own limerick using the same first line and post it in my comments. And if you’re on Facebook, I hope you’ll join my friends in that same activity in my Limerick-Offs.

A Doggone Limerick

Friday, April 13th, 2007

A Doggone Limerick
By Madeleine Begun Kane

“It’s so cute!” said the child, with delight.
“You can’t have it,” said Mom. “Puppies bite.
It’s adorable, true,
But dogs nip, bark, and chew,
And your Daddy will cower in fright.” 

UPDATE: Happy National Puppy Day! (March 23rd)

Secret Shopper

Tuesday, October 17th, 2006

“I’m not going in there. No way. Forget it.”

My seventy-something mother’s stance was as rigid as her words; arms folded across her chest, unyielding legs pointed away from the shop I’d just suggested.

She and I had spent the entire afternoon combing through three department stores for the definitive pair of panties. Or at least my mom’s idea of same. This illusive undergarment had to be loose, comfortable, 100% cotton, and totally devoid of lace. And that was just for starters. It also had to completely cover my mother’s hips and come in a large size, the exact number of which she resolutely refused to disclose. … (Secret Shopper is continued here.)