I am from dad's work junk,
From Nike running shoes and Border Collie dogs.
I am from Pine-Sol cleaning supplies.
I am from the begonias on the deck, The newly grown pine trees.

I am from Christmas Eve movies.
And yelling over who gets last night left overs.
From Vicki and Pat McLoone and Lincait and Caitylin.

I am from the papers on the counter.
And dishes in the sink.
From, "Don't touch that," And, "Call me when you get there."
I am from the Catholics on my dad's side, And the the Jews on my moms.

I am from Sunday morning church
And the Sunday evening classes.
I am from East Stroudsburg, Pennsylvania, Columbus, Ohio and the Irish.
I'm from mom's pumpkin pies, And dad's Sunday morning scrambled eggs.
From dad's youth Dottie's exploding donuts,
The story of how we got our dog, And how my parents met.

I am from the house in the boondocks,
And the chaos inside
From the childhood memories, that will never be forgotten,
And the family fights that have brought us together.