Maladies

Once upon a time
In a land quite near,
One sweet doctor
Had a lot to fear.

The family came in
Lookin' scary as can be,
Starting with Jen
Who had run into a tree

Her nose was bleeding.
Her arm was broken.
Her hair was all messed up
(Though she was soft spoken).

The doc pinched her nose,
Set her arm, and then
Told her to wait
With the rest of them.

One cute little girl
Had a marble up her nose.
The scrawny oldest son
Had staph in his toes.

That smart young boy
Had a nail in his foot
That caused him much pain
And was covered in soot.

The dad smiled wryly
As held up his hand.
It seems it was a landing pad
For the family van.

Though the doc poked around,
Dad couldn't feel a thing.
He'd severed his nerve
And couldn't wear his ring.

But that wasn't all
For he'd broken his back
Lifting up concrete
In a bright yellow sack.

And while he was waiting
For back surgery,
Gout had set in
With quite a fury.

Sweet young Betty,
Could keep nothing down
For months and months--
She was starting to frown.

The doc said a paralyzed stomach
Was to blame,
But Violet's spewing
Was not the same.

Glossy and red
Were Violet's eyes.
She'd gotten sick
From bad pizza pies.

Even the baby
Had come to some harm
With a fork in a socket
That caused an alarm

Don't forget the dog
That had attacked one lad,
Mauling his face,
Left him calling for "dad."

The toddler couldn't stand
Because of the chair
Wrapped 'round his foot
With a nonchalant air.

Not to be outdone
Watch out for his sister
The door, of course
Decided not to miss her

It took off her finger
In a second or less
Poor little Bonnie
Had to clean up the mess.

Grandma nearby
Twirled the teeth she'd broke
On her finger
As she tried not to poke

Fun at the others
Who were in such pain.
(Even the cat
Had come up lame.)

And last not least
Let's not forget Mom
Whose nerves were jangled
As if hit by a bomb.

She looked quite frazzled.
Her hair stood on end.
Her makeup was a mess.
She was gaunt and thin.

She took the prescriptions
With a jittery hand,
Thanked that doctor,
Then ate some sand.

And if you're hit
With such maladies
Don't fret; don't worry
As the kids start to sneeze.

They tend to grow up
And be just fine,
And the love they bring
Is worth a gold mine.