Day 91: Uncle Milt

Laetitia decided that she had been touring for the last thirty days and needed a break. She called her cousin Elsa, who works in downtown Minneapolis, and they decided to meet for lunch at a Nepalese restaurant called the Gorkha Palace, which is across the river from downtown. In most cases, traversing the distance from Hibernia to Minneapolis just for lunch would be out of the question, but it’s something a Mind’s Eye Limerick tour director can accomplish with ease.

Starting with momo appetizers, Laetitia and Elsa mostly talked about family matters. Elsa’s parents, Milt and Myrtle, had recently purchased a lake home in the area. Its previous owner had had a penchant for ostentation. The guest bathroom looked like something Maxfield Parrish might have designed, with a sunken tile tub and faux marble walls and pillars. Next to the stool were a built-in bookshelf and a pedestal. Milt and Myrtle were somewhat at a loss about what to put on the pedestal, but finally decided on a replica of Auguste Rodin’s The Thinker. “You’ll never guess what they put on the bookshelf—your limerick collection,” Elsa said. “It’s Dad’s idea of a joke.” Laetitia thought about Uncle Milt with his spectacles, outlet mall plaid shirts, and thirteen-dollar baggy pants and said to herself. “Yes, that would be Uncle Milt’s kind of joke.”

In the days before she became a Mind’s Eye tour guide, Laetitia put together a collection of her limericks and gave copies to her relatives. She hadn’t exactly viewed her limericks as “john” reading material, but obviously Uncle Milt did. She decided to feign being offended, so when lunch was over she wrote out a multiple-verse limerick on a napkin and gave it to Elsa to give to Milt next time she saw him. She then made an additional copy for herself to post on the Mind’s Eye website.

‘Tis rumored my limerick collection
Is placed for your house guests’ inspection
Within reach of the throne
For those who are prone
To read verse meant for quiet reflection.

So that lines about Dublin-on-Liffey,
Whose artistic merits are “iffy”
Can be viewed with élan
When “The Thinker,” (Rodin)
Is the pose that’s assumed on the biffy.

If you think that my Lim’ricks are bad
And you hope not the start of a fad
I have to reflect
That it’s what I’d expect
From a guy who goes ‘round wearing plaid.