Call me Rodger

My father was a bodger
I am a bodger’s lad
And bodging skills that I’ve acquired
Come from my dear old dad.

I spent my morning bodging
Some rather tricky tasks
A bodger’s inspiration please
Is all this feller asks.

And when that inspiration comes
I feel so fine and dandy
Searching my treasure trove of things
Which ‘might well come in handy’.

Screws and nuts, bits and bobs
Fill my bodger’s station
And tiny little bits of wood
Awaiting reincarnation.

“Rubbish, rubbish throw it out!”
The family say to me
But bodgers know that little things
Are useful, eventually.

Drabble published May 14, 2024 12:38

Christopher 3 months ago

My dad is like this, but we call it a packrat over here in the colonies.

The cadence of the first verse reminded me of an old English tongue-twister I heard one...

I'm not a pheasant plucker
I'm a pheasant plucker's mate
I'm only plucking pheasants
'Cause the pheasant plucker's late!
Neville Hunt 3 months ago

I know that tongue-twister except for substitution of the words 'son' for 'mate' and 'comes' for 'late'... but I prefer your version, which I shall use from now on!
Christopher 3 months ago

I had forgotten about it until I read that first verse. I can't remember where I heard it, though. The first two lines I heard Mr. Lucas say on Are You Being Served but then years later I heard the last two lines but that's what I can't remember where it came from. Man, so much of my early life was spent watching shows from the other side of the pond. Python, Fawlty, Blackadder, Young Ones, and my personal favorite Red Dwarf.