“Pat and kiss those flabby thumbs
Just as your told!” Said my angry mum.
“We’ll have no tickles or bearded men glee,
So off with the gloves, and kiss like me.”
Chubby boys like the attention a lot
Brothers will toy with their wee tater tots.
“Not gingerly enough–you’ll upset his gullet!”
Said mum as dandruff snowed from her mullet.
I began to think as fat thumbs became pink
That if we did this much longer they would start to stink!
Our lips are numbing, but mum loves her “thumbing.”
“Now, children! Make bundling, there will be no running!”
Bubbled cheeks have jiggled, as the fatty has giggled.
He insists that we stop, “It tickles! It tickles!”
But mum rebuts with as she says “Be tough,
And endure these tickles, for your reward is a pickle…”
That’s all the busty boy needed to hear,
And he waited it out, for what seemed to be years!
He squinted but couldn’t stop a big smile
A juicy prize to be his in just a short while.
Chunky digits as these will make a youngling ponder
At the motives of mum, as she looks over yonder.
“A-hee! I see, a fatter thumb than thee!
Come along now, children! Let this plump one be!”
On to the next one, will this ever end?
From one fatty to another, over the bend, and again.
Mum has always been fond of this ticklish trend
Of kissing the thumbs of my fatty friends.