Goodbye to Grumpy

Why do only our children see
The best in grumpy old men?
Perhaps, unlike you or me,
They want the best years from them.

For how could anyone else but he
Find the smallest things amusing?
Just ask the kids, then let it be.
It only gets confusing.

King Charlie ruled with suburban flair,
His whistle was his label.
His podium was the back of a chair,
His desk was the kitchen table.

We're told that in life we are in death
We're told we all meet our demise.
Why is it, then, that when Charlie left
It took us all by surprise?

Long after the hankies have hung out to dry
Long after our mourning is done;
We'll hear Charlie's whistle and wonder why
It means more to us now that he's gone.

So next time a thunderclap roars really loud
And the kids are as scared as the dog;
Don't tell them lies about lightning and clouds,
Tell them Grumpy's just cranky with God!