Pat a cake, pat a cake, Baker's man
Bake me a cake as fast as you can.
Pat it and prick it and mark it with, "B"
And put it in the oven for baby and me.

Grandma's Disease

Author unknown

There's been a change in Grandma, we've noticed her of late.
She's always reading history or jotting down some date.
She's tracking back the family, we'll all have pedigrees.
Oh, Grandma's got a hobby - she's climbing FAMILY TREES.

Poor Grandpa does the cooking, and now, or so he states,
That worst of all, he has to wash the cups and dinner plates.
Grandma can't be bothered, she's as busy as a bee,
Compiling genealogy to make the FAMILY TREE.

She has no time to babysit, the curtains are a fright,
No buttons left on Grandpa's shirt, the flower bed's a sight.
She's given up her club work and the soaps on her TV,
The only thing she does these days is climb the FAMILY TREE.

She goes down to the courthouse and studies ancient lore,
We know more of our forebears than anyone knew before.
The books are old and dusty, they make poor Grandma sneeze,
A minor irritation when you're climbing FAMILY TREES.

The mail is all for Grandma, it comes from near and far,
Last week she got the proof she needs to join the D.A.R.
A monumental project the folk back home agree,
They all abstain from climbing the same old FAMILY TREE.

Now some folks came from Scotland, some from Galway Bay,
Some were French as pastry, some German all the way.
Some went West to stake their claims, some stayed here by the sea.
Grandma hopes to find them all, upon the FAMILY TREE.

She wanders through the graveyard in search of date and name,
The rich, the poor, the in-between, all sleeping there the same.
She pauses now and then to rest, fanned by a gentle breeze,
That blows between the branches of our Fathers' FAMILY TREES.

We've pioneers and patriots, mixed in our kith and kin,
Who blazed the paths of wildness and fought through thick and thin.
But none more staunch than Grandma, who eyes light up with glee,
Each time she finds a missing branch to join our FAMILY TREE.

Their skills were wide and varied, from carpenter to cook,
And one, alas, the records show, was nothing but a crook.
Blacksmith, weaver, farmer, judge - some tutored for a fee.
Once lost in time, now all recorded on the FAMILY TREE.

To some it's just a hobby, to Grandma it's much more,
She learns the joys and heartaches of those that went before.
They loved, they lost, they laughed, they wept - and now, for you and me,
They live again in spirit around the FAMILY TREE.

At last she's nearly finished and we are each exposed,
Life will be the same again, this we all supposed.
Grandma will cook and sew, serve tartlets with our tea.
We'll all be fat, just as before the wretched FAMILY TREE.

Sad to relate, the preacher called and visited for a spell.
We talked about the Gospel, and other things as well.
The heathen folk, the poor and then - 'twas fate, it had to be,
Somehow the conversation turned to Grandma's FAMILY TREE.

He never knew his Grandpa, his mother's name was...Clark?
He and Grandma talked and talked, outside it grew quite dark.
We'd hoped our fears were groundless, but just like some disease,
Gramdma's become an addict - she's hooked on FAMILY TREES!

Our souls are filled with sorrow, our hearts sad with dismay,
Our ears could scarce believe the words we heard our Grandma say,
"It sure is a lucky thing that you have come to me,
I know exactly how it's done. I'll climb your FAMILY TREE."

Row row row your boat
Gently down the stream
Merily merily merily merily
Life is about a dream
Row row row your boat
Gently down the stream
Merily merily merily merily
Life is about a dream

Row row row your boat
Gently down the stream
Merily merily merily merily
Life is about a dream
Row row row your boat
Gently down the stream
Merily merily merily merily
Life is about a dream

Goosey, goosey, gander,
Whither dost thou wander?
Upstairs and downstairs
And in my lady's chamber.
There I met an old man
Who wouldn't say his prayers;
I took him by the left leg,
And threw him down the stairs