A poem, about turning 40

’Twas the morning after the fortieth
And all through the house
Not a creature was stirring
Except the one making the coffee and Alkaseltzer

’Twas the morning after the morning after the fortieth
And all through the house
The creatures were starting to stir but generally still uncomfortable and underperforming

’Twas the morning after the morning after the morning after the fortieth
And all through the house
The creatures were stirring
Even the mouse!
It scurried up the staircase
Squeaking the old well known phrase

“Warning! Duration of hangover is proportionate to age!”