I used to wear my granny’s PJ’s.
I remember them from early days.
A backscratcher and a 4-legged tub,
And bubbles popped as I would rub.
A towel for just my hands and face
And a bigger towel, my arms to embrace.
A powder puff that felt so good,
I’d pat myself as she said I should.
After my bath we’d sit and chat
Over a little late-night snack.
These are why my granny is to me
Like honey is to a bee.
Joyce Lynn Eggleston
Written in Shreveport, LA – 1992
Inspired by my granny, Sarah Opal Hurst.