My Thermometer

I remember, when I was three or four,
My family was very poor,
When I was sick, and had a fever,
Almost a client for the shroud weaver,
My mother (May she rest in peace), Amen,
Will check my temperature, now and again,
She would take out that thermometer, old it was,
And in my mouth, between my jaws,
At night it was stuck in the other end,
When I asked, she always said,
“There are two, one for each end”
Yet until this day, I am suspecting
(Considering that, I did do my investigating)
I have never seen two thermometers, side by side,
(Believe me I surly tried),
Those were the good old days,
These were the good old ways,
Next time when you Kvetch and complain,
Consider my missing thermometer, and think again.

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