Aunt Fannie Pick-Up

I remember listening as a child to my dad telling the story of Aunt Fannie Pick-Up.  The name was fondly given to his spinster aunt due to her, shall we say, sticky fingered habits.  He would tell of how she hid the items she "lifted" in the skirt of her oversized umbrella.  Years later, I rendered my own version of the story.  I can just see the illustrations that would accompany the verse.  I hope you can too.

Aunt Fannie Pick-Up

By: Julie Schuh

Our dear Aunt Fannie Pick-Up

Has an unusual family trait

We’ve tried to keep it hidden

But it’s shown itself of late

You see, Aunt Fannie is a klepto

As in kleptomaniac

And she likes to come and visit

Just to eye our bric-a-brac

Daddy says that she’s eccentric

And that it’s common on his side

Mother says that she’s a thief

And that we really need to hide

The Hummels and the Lladros

And great-grandma’s silver chest

So we use the stainless flatware

When Aunt Fannie is a guest

I hate that we disparage

Or cast aspersions on her name

Because I really kind of like her

And find it hard to blame

A tiny blue haired lady

In a flowered school marm dress

Who dotes on me completely

(Which I enjoy, I must confess)

She likes to tell us stories

They begin when Dad was three

She always clears her throat

And then requests a cup of tea

Mom heads into the kitchen

That leaves Dad and me still there

Soon Aunt Fannie has a sniffle

And her hanky isn’t where

It should be in her handbag

So she asks me for a tissue

I leave the room to get one

Though I know it’s not the issue

She next informs my father

That her car has got a knock

It really has her worried

Could he drive it ‘round the block

Quite successfully, she’s cleared the room

Well, actually that comes later

You have to hand it to her

She’s a master manipulator

“Your tea is almost ready.”

“Oh, Please, take your time, my dear.”

And surreptitiously she nabs

A knick-knack setting near

Her trained eye quickly travels

To a trinket on a shelf

There appears no hesitation

As she kindly helps herself

Her well-worn black umbrella

The one she uses for a cane

Is where she hides her booty

(I sure hope it doesn’t rain)

Mom enters from the kitchen

Aunt Fannie greets her with a smile

Mom pours them each a cup of tea

And they chat a little while

“I hate to be a bother,

But it seems I have a chill.

Might you have a sweater, dearie,

That I could wear until

It’s time for me to leave

It’d be so awfully kind.”

And once again she’s all alone

To see what she can find

There’s a bauble on the bookcase

That my dad brought back from France

I could pray she’ll overlook it

But I doubt that there’s a chance

She scans the room

And lands upon a porcelain figurine

I’m surprised that Mom forgot it

Too late now, cause it’s been seen

She’s pilfered lots of items

And her bumbershoot is stuffed

She yawns and asks where Dad is

Seems she’s finally had enough

Dad comes into the house

Reports her car is sounding fine

She says she has to leave now

“Cause it’s getting close to nine”

We say good-bye and close the door

While Mom takes inventory

Every time Aunt Fannie visits, it seems

We repeat the same old story

And you’d think we’d all be angry

And insist she stay away

But in truth we really love her

Even though she is this way

And it really doesn’t matter

Because each year at Christmas time

Aunt Fannie comes with presents

And they really are sublime

For it’s everything she’s taken

And she hands them out with pleasure

“A little something from Aunt Fannie

That I hope you’ll always treasure.”