(When you serve a mission, one day each week is set aside as a “Preparation Day”: aka “P Day”. It is intended to be used to run errands, do laundry, buy groceries, and that kind of thing. While serving in New Zealand, my wife and I often felt like we were on our own. Who would ever check up on us and see how we were using our time? This poem takes a lighthearted look at our isolated situation.)
Everyday’s a P Day since we’ve been on our own,
We spend it on the beach or we spend it on the phone.
We send a fax or just relax and make ourselves to home.
‘Cause every day’s a P Day since we’ve been on our own.
Up and down the countryside, it never seems to stop.
We travel to the best towns and then its shop to shop.
Just like ruddy tourists, we have to pay the shot,
But every day’s a P Day and we don’t care a sot.
There’s little to do for us folk, but stand around and teach,
Unless the Bishop calls us up to fetch us round to preach.
We might get asked quite candid like. ‘Ere now, what’s to do?
So we tell them it our P Day, so there’s not to misconstrue.
Someday we’ll meet St. Peter, when time comes to cash our chit.
I do hope he closes both his eyes and lightens up a bit.
More sure he’ll say, “Wait up a bit, I recognize you lot.
You’ve used up all your P. Days mate. You’re off to where its hot.”
-Doug Garrett