Grandpa’s Mastermind Diaster

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I got Conned by a Nine-year Old,
my Granddaughter Truth be Told.
Her request Was quite a Chore,
had to Play it On the Floor.

Took a While to Get down There,
Bent my Parts and Said a Prayer.
Humiliation soon to Come,
way Before my Butt went Numb.

Picked her Colors at the Top,
Ten to Match was my Workshop.
Brain Cells lost I could not Find,
Even more at Mastermind.

Eight tries Later still in Trouble,
Pity on my Thinking Rubble.
Three pegs placed In proper Place,
She helped Grandpa save some Face.

Even with Her bright Insight,
took Two Tries to Get it Right.
Then she Wanted to Switch Roles,
Solved the Thing with Eight Small Holes.

Beaten Down – Brain Cells Gone,
felt it Best that We move On.
Took a While to Stand Erect,
Bones and Muscles now were Wrecked.

Like to Think next time Around,
my Brain Cells won’t Let me Down.
So that I am Not the Worst,
Sneak a Peek at Her side First.

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Author: Bob Grant