Short Story March: Day Four

A Children's Story about Ribs

Little Junior Colin Tibbs was very good at telling fibs.
His father, Senior Colin Tibbs, was very good at cooking ribs.
Cooked in sauce, cooked with smoke, rubbed with spice, and it's no joke;
Everyone for miles and miles came to Senior Tibbs' with smiles.

One day, Junior Colin Tibbs told the fibbiest of fibs;
The older Senior Colin's Ribs, were central to this massive fib.
"My father's cooking up some beans, the likes of which, you've never seens,
And ribs, of course, he's cooking, too, enough for you and you and you."

And people all throughout the town, got in their cars and drove on down
In front of Tibbs' house they planned to meet, to head 'round back and start to eat.
When Senior Tibbs saw the growing crowd, he looked and looked and looked around
For Junior Tibbs, who at that time, was hiding silent as a mime.

Tibbs went out front to address the crowd (who by this time had grown quite loud)
"My friends," he cried, "you've been deceived, there are no ribs you will receive."
Then one by one, the crowd grew mad, and shouted at the Junior's Dad
"Your son made promises, now, Tibbs; you'd better feed us all those ribs!"

From where he hid, the Junior one, laughed at this game, and thought it fun!
But the older Tibbs, on his front stoop, stood and let his shoulders droop;
In his garage, in his deep freeze, he had the meat to meet their needs
But not for a mob with appetites hardy; they were for next month's big block party!

"Make with the ribs!" some folks did cry, "It's almost noon, the sun is high!"
"It's dinner time," another said, a man with a knit cap on his head.
"We've come prepared," a neighbor chimed in, "to do otherwise would be a sin!"
"I've brought some slaw, I've brought some beans! And frank has got a new machine!"

"A device," said Frank, "that is supreme; it makes four kinds of cold ice cream!"
"And I've brought games!" said Mister Cruz. "Bocce ball, Frisbees, and horse shoes!"
And Senior Tibbs was quite impressed, he was no longer in distress!
"I've got the ribs, so come on back! I'll start by cooking up a rack!"

A picnic day, the neighbors had, hosted by young Junior's dad!
They played some games, they cooked the ribs, prepared by Senior Colin Tibbs!
But Junior Tibbs was not around, and none knew where he could be found.
When Senior Tibbs announced the feast, Junior felt an awful beast.

He knew his father had been saving (all the while the neighbors craving)
The ribs for that big special day, the one which comes at end of May.
And Junior knew his father's mood was likely soon to come to brood.
So Junior hid in his bedroom, and settled into quite a gloom.

At his door there came a knock, at quite precisely six o'clock.
It was his father, Senior Tibbs, with a heaping plate of slaw and ribs
And beans and chips and cookies, too; and Junior knew not what to do.
"I made this plate for you," dad said, "What are you doing there in bed?"

"Oh Daddy!" Junior Tibbs cried out, "I've been so bad!" he began to pout.
"I lied and told them all to come, I thought it would be such great fun!"
"And now," he said, "your big big plans have all come to such tragic ends!"
"I'm sorry, Dad, that's how I feel; you must think that I'm quite a heel."

"But Son," said dad, "while it is true this is not what I planned to do,
We're having fun, we're playing games! The new neighbors are learning names!"
He hugged his son and hugged him tight and said to him "It's quite all right."
"You should not lie, please know this, son. But really, this is lots of fun!"

"Come down and out, please join the crowd! Run and play and shout out loud!"
"And eat some ribs?" asked Junior Tibbs. "Of course," said Senior, "eat some ribs!"
"And eat some slaw! And chips and cake! There are a dozen mom did bake,
Plus all the others neighbors brought, come have a look, there's quite a lot!"

And so the two Tibbs boys went down to join the rest of the happy town.
They talked, and ate, and had a blast, like none had seen in days gone past!
And Junior Tibbs, well, he learned a lot about what he should say, and what he should not.
And punishment? Well, when all had supped...Junior Tibbs was there to clean it all up.

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Yeah, okay, so, I don't know how well I can keep this up. Maybe a short story a day is a little ambitious when I am writing for three blogs, trying to complete a first draft of a novel by the end of the month, working full time, and being a husband/father. So maybe Short Story March lasted all of four days...

But I promise to try and blog every week day, even if it's just a little bit.