Cruickshank, Albert
Mam an the bairns are aff tae the pairty,
For it's the Festive Season again.
At hame wi the littlest wean,
Peer auld faither's left alane.
Auld faither he struggled alang,
As he mixed up a feed for the wean.
Bit syne he discovert wi horror,
A hippen change wid need tae be deen.
Auld faither he scratched at his pow.
For this wis fairly ootwith his paill.
Cis tae haud up a hippen on wean,
He cwid hardly juist ca in a nail.
Auld faither ca'ad brain upside doon,
In his struggle an answer tae find.
Tae this problem o fool reekin hippen.
Bit nithing at a cam tae mind
Auld faither gat ever mair desperate,
As the wean's roars raise on the air.
Till faither roared "Gweed Lord help me"
An inspiration juist hit him, richt there.
Auld faither ran throw tae the phone,
Thinkin' - Dampt ah've been a richt bam.
For a I'd tae dae wis tae dial,
An get granny up here tae be mam.
Weel granny appeared, the soon seen gaed doon,
For she'd athin sortit oot in a twinklin.
As the doupie wis washed an poodert.
An a clean hippen on withoot wrinklin.
Auld faither can sit doon in peace noo,
For contentment an quait reigns ower aa.
For a granny's sic a handy craitur.
Aye an she's juist a distress call awa.