The Mountain Laurel
The Journal of Mountain Life

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from the
Heart of the Blue Ridge

Sunday Afternoons

By Gayle G. Lin © 1988

Issue: April, 1988

I loved, on Sunday afternoons,
To sit on Daddy's lap,
To be so quiet and so still
To help him take his nap.

His rocking chair was plenty big
To hold the both of us.
Once I forgot and wiggled but
He never made a fuss.

He'd read "The Katzenjammer Kids";
That rocking chair would squeak;
He'd pull me closer to his chest;
My hair would brush his cheek.

He'd ask me if I wanted to
Get down and go to play,
But he needed me to help him
And so I'd always stay.

His arm fit right around me
Just like it knew my size,
And then his head would start to nod
And he would close his eyes.

It's so funny how it happened;
It always seemed to be
That the one who napped the longest
Wasn't Daddy – It was me!