Many many years ago when I was twenty three

Many many years ago when I was twenty three,I got married to a widow who was pretty as could be.This widow had a grown-up daughterWho had hair of red.My father fell in love with her,And soon the two were wed. This made my dad my son-in-lawAnd changed my very life.My daughter was my mother,For she was my father's wife.To complicate the matters worse,Although it brought me joy.I soon became the fatherOf a bouncing baby boy. My little baby then becameA brother-in-law to dad.And so became my uncle,Though it made me very sad.For if he was my uncle,Then that also made him brotherTo the widow's grown-up daughterWho, of course, was my step-mother. Father's wife then had a son,Who kept them on the run.And he became my grandson,For he was my daughter's son.My wife is now my mother's motherAnd it makes me blue.Because, although she is my wife,She's my grandma too. If my wife is my grandmother,Then I am her grandchild.And every time I think of it,It simply drives me wild.For now I have becomeThe strangest case you ever saw.As the husband of my grandmother,I am my own grandpa!!

said Lady Blonze.

“Of course it’s easy to make fun of it,” said Blanche sharply, “but it was extremely interesting and amusing. The prize was rather a fiasco, though. You see, Millie Matheson said her character was Lady Bountiful, and as she was our hostess of course we all had to vote that she had carried out her character better than anyone. Otherwise I ought to have got the prize.”

“It’s quite an idea for a Christmas party,” said Lady Blonze; “we must certainly do it here.”

Sir Nicholas was not so enthusiastic. “Are you quite sure, my dear, that you’re wise in doing this thing?” he said to his wife when they were alone together. “It might do very well at the Mathesons, where they had rather a staid, elderly house-party, but here it will be a different matter. There is the Durmot flapper, for instance, who simply stops at nothing, and you know what Van Tahn is like. Then there is Cyril Skatterly; he has madness on one side of his family and a Hungarian grandmother on the other.”

“I don’t see what they could do that would matter,” said Lady Blonze.