Today you enter rarified air
Today the world will stop and stare
We admire you lady, we honor you gent
For a milestone reached, the elite one percent
You’re decent at games, sometimes you get first
But as Papa once said, “Our luck runs in squirts”
You excel at cooking, your slaw makes us roar
Our mouths often water, when our lips touch a S’More
Your reading, less impressive, it makes our mood sour
When you stare at a menu, for hours and hours!
Your hearing, even worse, much to our dismay
You’ll oft shrug your shoulders, no matter what we say
Your appetite, declining, “no seconds for us”
If it’s not La Fogata, there’s no need to discuss
You’re better at shopping, though you just browse and stare
With Papa in the parking lot, asleep and unaware
A trip to the mailbox, your high point each day
“Let it be Publisher’s Clearinghouse, this we pray, this we pray”
But you’re not lacking money, this next one quite true
You once pulled $1000, from a hole in your shoe!
Your fashion unique, pajamas tucked into socks
Just an old white Urkel, Papa’s look really rocks
Your tv tastes absurd, very different than ours
Find a program on cholesterol, and listen for hours
Your phone skills are lacking, your messages obscure
On one fateful voice text, Jan found you cussing at her!
New eyes and new hips, just add oils and lubes
But we’re afraid, before long, you’ll invest in new… knees!
You’re two peas in a pod, never separated for long
Two meant to be together, and that’s not at all wrong
You’re quirky, you’re strange, sometimes downright odd
But there are no couples we know, who are more “all in” on God
And this marriage thing, you have figured it out
The love, the commitment, with you, there’s no doubt
65 years together, the less than one percent
We admire you lady, we honor you gent
Today you enter rarified air
Today the world will stop and stare
