Her Waterloo

I've a long tale to tell and I hope that it will

Make you wiser and not too much sadder.

About Eileen, to whom I've referred in the past,

Who's not in complete accord with her bladder!

It's not quite so bad, in the daytime.

She's quite wide-awake and can see.

It's when night-time falls and she's half asleep,

That her problems arise, rapidly!

It makes demands at the most inconvenient of times,

Demands that she cannot ignore,

She has to make a quick stride, to get to the right side,

Of the nearest lavatory door!

So she gets up and keeps wits about her,

And makes sure that she's clad, reasonably,

So she can meet the dictates of her bladder,

With such bitter, yet sweet ecstasy!

It's quite often you know, in the midst of the night,

That we hear the odd squeak on the stair.

And detect Eileen's ghostly form gliding by,

To the 'whatsit' in the you know where!

Yet, later on, in the dawn's early hour,

There's another moan and a rattle of chain,

Our Eileen has beaten the short sprint record,

She was so desperate to visit again!

It's not often, in this dimly lit hall,

That a semi-clad body is flaunted

It's just as well that the kids are asleep,

Else they'd swear our house was well haunted!

The hallway's so dark at this time of the night,

You can't see a foot in front of the knee.

But, when the bladder dictates, she must get up,

And dash to the Loo, hurriedly!

It would be easy, to pull the sheets closer

And cuddle up to her pillow, I’ll bet!

But it becomes less and less comfortable,

When what she clings to becomes decidedly wet!

At least Eileen waits until she gets to the hall,

Before she turns on a flickering torchlight

Which illuminates the stairs and silhouettes her frame

And that's a most incredible sight!

And it's a long way to go, in the very small hours,

So we'll have to make changes, we think.

Either bring the Loo just a little nearer,

Or lower the bedroom sink!

It would overcome the problems of trips in the night,

That she contends with, hour after hour.

She could attend to herself, in complete privacy.

So much better than handstands in the shower!

I know that it's really for washing face and hands

But, if used in a more versatile way,

At a much lower level, you understand,

It could double up, as a bidet!

We'll suggest that she views it quite differently,

So that each call becomes an outing, a trip!

It may help her to ease this problem,

'Cos you can't beat it, once it's taken a grip!

She'll dress up in a scarf and a rattle,

Make believe that she's attending a match.

To take her mind off her bladder,

Or the rapidly developing damp patch!

Or, she could start writing a novel,

About the best loos, that she's ever seen.

And give each one a star rating,

According to whether it's smelly or clean!

In this way she would become expert,

Internationally known, well recognised.

Looked up to, throughout the Nation.

Like a pop star, she'd be idolised!

When the Queen reviews the New Year Honours,

To decide those to whom they'll be bestown,

The name of Dame Eileen will spring to mind,

As the recipient of the 'Golden Throne!

She'll be invited to Buckingham Palace,

With such ceremony, Oh! what a caper!

Next to the Award, to be placed around her neck,

Will be the most gorgeous lavatory paper!

She'll bend her knee, before her Monarch

On her knees so long, that it hurts.

"Oh! By the way dear", she says to the Queen,

"I used to make all your skirts! "

She’ll receive a tap on the shoulders,

"Arise, Dame Eileen", her Queen will say,

From henceforth on, all loos will be free,

You'll never again have to pay!

As a further honour, I'm very pleased to say,

Bestowed by the Duchess of York,

Inside a very beautiful presentation case,

Is the very latest watertight cork!

And, as you drive out of the Palace gates,

The crowd will surround you, like ants.

You'll casually wave with an acknowledging hand,

But conceal your incontinence pants!

But after it all, you can look back and smile,

You've risen to fame after all,

From that very humble beginning,

When you just had to respond to the call!

by Lavi Chane.

(Written for and dedicated to Eileen, who endured so much and yet smiled through it all!)

Incidentally, as a young girl she worked as a seamstress for a London Fashion House, which had the patronage of the Royal Family. She contributed her considerable skill to the making of the Queen's dresses and we have samples of the materials used, in a scrapbook at home.

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