Pass Me The Doodah
My other half’s got me under the thumb -
She told me the sink I had to go and un-gum
Even though I think DIY’s a total pain in the bum.
I tried using every one of the tools that I’d got,
And soon I was covered in debris and grot,
Not only that – I was in a very tight spot.
I was getting all bothered and hot,
My temper snapped, my patience was shot.
“What I need,” I thought, “is a long whatnot”.
My brow with cold sweat became beaded,
And I’d no idea what it was that I needed,
But at last to my cries she finally heeded.
I was in the narrowest space I could fit,
But if I could just turn that doodah one little bit,
So I shouted to her, “pass me the wotsit!”
“The thingummy, the oojah, the one with the
knob,
That effort, the dingle-dongle,” I cried
with a sob,
“You know, that big thingamabob!”
She passed me a gubbins that looked quite tricky,
And I said, “I don’t mean to be too picky,
But that’s not it at all, that’s not the doohickey!”
“The whatchamacallit, the one that’s quite
big,
The wossit, the gizmo that looks like a
pig,
Oh come on! Just gimme the thingamajig!”
“This widget’s no midget, it’s making me
mad,
It’s gnarled, and it’s snarled, it’s really quite bad,
The only thing that’ll shift it is that doodad!”
Well, she got in a big huff, started passing me stuff,
But it were wrong for the job, it just weren’t enough,
And I started getting narky and all of a huff.
“If you’d just give me what I need, you great divvy,
I could stop behaving like a snivelling skivvy.
What this job needs is a deedum, or an oojah-capivvy!”
My fingers on the dingus was doing no good,
And the water were spurting, turning to mud:
My ineptitude had created a black flood.
An unknown tool, whatever handle I picks,
Just something from there in the mix,
Just a thingy, or a doozy, would get me out
of this fix.
So if anyone knows the name that is right,
Pass on over here, as quick as you might,
Or else be stuck here for the rest of the night!
Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2013
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