Neither did it help
That she drank enough drink
To fill the Grand Canyon
Twice over
You see
Her weight… ahem, was a BIG problem
But what she really needed to do was remain sober
Far more embarrassing when her bladder gave in
As if in a past life she’d committed a heinous sin
People stopped and stared
At the weak-bladdered blob
As though they hadn’t a care
There she’d sit at the dinner-table
The out and out slob
The toilet didn’t help
‘Cos the smell from below
Always made other customers yelp
Scarper
All of the above made her feel the utter need to hide
Inside a cubicle
A cubicle her bum was far too big for
Her nearest and dearest didn’t mind
Of course
They turned a blind eye
That’s what you call unconditional love
Sent from above
She’d waddle on back to her table
Praying that her last visit to the ladies had
Calmed the tide
And if it turned out they hadn’t
Quick as that
Quick as a flash
She’d lock herself inside the cubicle once more
Her own mother wailing at her to
HIDE. HIDE. HIDE.
The weak-bladdered blob didn’t know what to do with herself
Ride it out
Eat and drink some more
Any hassle came her way
She’d give the staff a shout
So as to sort a thing or two out
Tell them to build a toilet closer to her table
It was all about
LOCATION. LOCATION. LOCATION
An answer that made her problem more manageable
More able
So what she did was this
She did eat and drink…
‘Til the cows came home
And when they did come home
She ate a few
But this time a weak bladder wasn’t the problem
What was it?
She fell onto the cubicle and cried
What was it?
Now it was the blasted NO. 2

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