Baby Bob Barnum was born yesterday
After twenty-five hours of labor and pain
But other than that there was nothing much different
Until he said hello at the age of three minutes
Hello mother, hello father, it's nice to be here
Man could I use an ice cold beer
If I'd known what a job it is to be born
I'd have asked for the vaseline or maybe a shoehorn
He shook hands with the doctor
Then winked at the nurse
Who screamed and ran out
Shouting, 'this kid is cursed'
Well, after an hour of tickles and hugs
And kisses and cooing and being all snug
Baby Bob wiggled free and slid to the floor
Did the Twist, the Watusi, and Boogalooed out the door
I'll be back in a while
It's just that I'm bored
After all, I've been cramped up
For nine months or more
Let me check this place out
I just want to be free
By the way, where's the bathroom?
Cause I have to pee
Everyone said, 'what a marvel, I'm amazed
That Baby Bob Barnum can read and play games'
He beat them at checkers and he beat them at chess
Monopoly, Payday and all of the rest
Then all of the doctors gathered round the new boy
As if he were some kind of mechanical toy
We've never known of a new born who talked
Let alone Boogalooing on our front walk
So they tested and studied and scrutinized Bob
Till the poor baby's new head began to throb
you've pinched me and pulled me and measured my width
Leave me alone now, I'm just a kid
And he begged of his mother
Make them leave me alone
Get me out of here
Just take me home
But science is science as everyone knows
And science needs answers and data to show
The poking and prodding and testing continued
Till Baby Bob Barnum was exhausted and winded
It was then Bob decided
'I'll escape this doom'
And while his mom slept
He crawled back in the womb
It's been seventeen years now
Since Bob moved back in
And he likes where he lives
There's no trouble or sin
And every now and again
Bob sticks out his head
Just to ask for some milk
Or a loaf of fresh bread
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem