COME SATURDAY MORNING

“Come Saturday morning
I'm goin' away with my friend
We'll Saturday-spend till the end of the day-ay”

Or, so the song goes. But how will I spend it? With a dust rag and feather duster, with a mop and bucket of hot steaming water to swab down the deck, from stem to stern. Saturdays!

“Just I and my friend
We'll travel for miles in our Saturday smiles
And then we'll move on
But we will remember long after Saturday's gone
(Come Saturday morning, come Saturday mo-o-rning)”

The only friend I have on Saturday morning is Saturday afternoon, by then the chores are over! God, how I hate Saturday mornings.

“Come Saturday morning
I'm goin' away with my friend
We'll Saturday-laugh more than half of the day (ay-ay-ay)
Just I and my friend (my friend)”

I could make my life easier and do some of the work during the week, but that would ruin a perfectly good week. Besides, isn’t that what Saturdays are for?

“Dressed up in our rings and our Saturday things
And then we'll move on
But we will remember long after Saturday's gone
(Come Saturday morning, come Saturday morning)”

I put on the TV and listen to an Oldies station, one that got me into trouble once before. It sees it was playing the limbo rock, and I did it by myself! I was having a great time until someone said: “How low can you go?”

“Come Saturday mo (Saturday) rning

Just I and my friend (my friend)
We'll travel for miles in our Saturday smiles
And then we'll move on
But we will remember long after Saturday's gone”

Of course, my dumb ass dog just watches; won’t dance with me, and becomes very afraid when I dance with the mop!

“(Come Saturday morning, come Saturday mo-o-rning)
(Come Saturday morning, come Saturday mo-o-rning)”

On Saturday morning, smoke got in my eyes, I was blinded by the harbor lights, and Donna, Oh Donna! But it all went away with Puff the magic dragon!

But once I hear the sound of a bass guitar strum out a beat, coupled by a set of drums, brushes dragging across the skin, I need to get up and dance to that rock beat. Suddenly the mop becomes a hot babe moving back to my moves, swaying to and from in my arms, hands clapping, butt swaying, mouth mouthing to the sounds of the beat.