Spaghetti Nose

Our family gathered most Sundays
For spaghetti and sweet bolognaise.
The juices flowed, the laughter grew,
We ate like kings and told lies too.

One Sunday I was sitting there
Watching my mum fuss and share
This feast, befitting of a king...
When, my dad did the strangest thing.

He sucked spaghetti through his lips
Slurping with such noisy sips,
Then SNEEZED! And like a garden hose
Spaghetti spurted from his nose.

Spaghetti tentacles that day
Sprinkled us with saucy spray,
If they were venomous I dread,
All of us would now be dead.

He didn’t mean to do it, no,
He stared at us, his eyes aglow
Then blushed and struck a regal pose
and pulled the remnants from his nose.

I can’t imagine how that was?
In his gob and out his snoz?
It must have been a deadly ride.
That day we laughed so hard we cried.

And in the wash-up I confessed,
The thing that left me most impressed
Was, after that uncouth display,
The old man ate it anyway.

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