To aunts and uncles with a graduation notice from our Daughter, Katie:

We thought it worth noting to kinfolk,
That Katie, our daughter, your niece
Is the last of the Anderson cousins
To join in the "graduate fleece."

She finished with honors and laurels
(Both are indigenous plants),
Just like her father before her,
And one, maybe two, of her aunts!

Michigan's where she is heading
For college this year in the fall.
The difference from Penn State you wonder?
A Big Ten thousand dollars is all.

Think not of time passing quickly
Don't look so somber and glum.
There are 96 more graduations
In the next generation to come.

To our niece, Melissa, on graduating from Penn State:

Melissa, we are proud of you
And think you are first rate.
We think that you are smart as hell
For choosing old Penn State

Here’s a gift to recognize
Your brilliance as a grad.
Guess your genes descended from
Your mother, not your dad.

To my nephew, Jon Ganter, upon learning he had chosen to go to Princeton:

Your choice of the Tigers is puzzling
Cause most of us thought from the start
That Princeton was out of your reach, kid,
Since really you aren't very smart.

I guess we were wrong in our thinking.
Good luck to you, Jon, in the fall.
Perhaps in your second semester
You can switch to Cornell after all.

To my nephew, Patrick, on graduating from High School:

Dear Patrick, you finally did it.
And enclosed is a nice tidy sum.
But your notice didn't give me a clue, kid.
If you proved yourself  brilliant or dumb.

  Einstein

Obviously, we knew that your mother
Was our Valedictorian pride,
But your father's academic achievements
Are something he chooses to hide.

We trust that you managed to take from
The Anderson gene reservoir.
Which makes you much smarter than average
Or makes you believe that you are.

To my daughter-in-law, Whitney, before her big test at medical school:

Whitney, dear, please have no fear.
The test that is your bane
Is such a snap, you'll hardly tap
The knowledge in your brain.

It is so true, I'd let you do
Some surgery on me,
Except if based, between the waist
And up above the knee.

Good luck, dear Whit. You'll ease thru it
Like everything you've done.
And maybe, too, when you are through
You can support my son!

To my college son in a letter with a recent college survey attached:

Here's a survey you'd enjoy
'Bout freshman just like you
It says that kids are smoking more
But doesn't mention "chew."

It says that kids are liberal
But most don't drink the brew
I see the survey never got
To interviewing you!

To our children, home for Easter:

It's nice to have you both back home
To see the Easter Bunny.
It's nice to have you talk to us
Without the need for money.

It's nice to have us all at home
And not with Uncle Bob.
Nicer still if both of you
Could get a paying job.

Everything will be just fine,
But only time will tell.
Meanwhile get your asses back
To school and work like hell.