Hypochondria

Ma sneezed once, said she’s surely doomed,
Wrapped herself in quilts and perfumed.
Pa claimed his elbow predicted rain,
Now he charts it daily in a notebook of pain.
Granny said she caught Wi-Fi disease,
From her Kindle and canned peas.
Cousin Bea wore six masks to town,
Then fainted from breathin’ her own meltdown.
Uncle Jeb won’t eat without gloves,
Says sandwiches transmit “brain-shrinkin’ bugs.”
The preacher coughed–called in a priest,
Turns out it was flour from Ma’s bread feast.
I once had hiccups, Googled the cause,
Ended up writin’ my own last clause.
We got a medicine drawer that hums and glows,
Half of it’s for “phantom nose.”
The local doc charges extra now,
Since every visit ends with a moo and a plow.
So if you twitch, cough, or yawn too deep,
Don’t tell Ma–she’ll bury you before you sleep.

Alan Nafzger (editor@bohiney.com)