stories of an adoptive family
"When my kids become wild and unruly, I use a nice, safe playpen. When they're finished, I climb out." -Erma Bombeck

Saturday, August 6, 2011

Dr Seuss is rolling over in his grave

Last night or this morning depending on how you look at it, I couldn't sleep. Instead of thinking of relaxing things, all I could think about was what would happen if Dr. Seuss lived with us.

If Dr Seuss ate at our house
I do not like that chicks and rice.
I do not think it very nice.
I will not eat it here or there.
I will not eat it anywhere.

Nor meat or beets or collared greens,
Or peaches, pears or gross green beans.
I only like my pasta bare.
No sauce will ever go on there.

You do not like them.
So you say.
Try them! Try them!
And you may.
Try them and you may, I say.

I will not eat those things I hate.
They might make me suffocate!
I'll yell and shout before I'd eat,
Something that I loved last week.

If Dr Seuss lived at our house
Socks
Rocks
Blocks
Toy Fox

Socks and Rocks are on the ground.
Fox and Blocks are all around.
On the couch and on the chair.
On the floor and on the stair.

Clothes and shoes are here and there.
Books and wrappers everywhere.
This mess is so big and tall,
We can not pick it up at all!


Stay tuned for other great titles such as:

"Whorton couldn't possibly have heard a Who because apparently he can barely hear YOU!"

and

"The 500 hats of Bartholomew Cubbins...which are all over the floor!"

6 comments:

Valinda said...

Ahhh, just think part of that will go to school soon and maybe you can find 3 minutes of sanity in everyday.

Candise said...

I LOVE it! I epecially the line about 'something that I loved last week'. So true! Hope to see you soon.

Lisa Sanderson said...

Whenever I think my kids are going to make me crazy with picky eating, messy habits and general naughtiness, I remember that you have the same problem times two... I think you should pursue a children's literary career. Just remember Dr. Seuss's rule of thumb...if you can't think of a rhyme make up a word...

Garrett B said...

I love this. Maybe you could do one for us if you're ever up late/early again:
The Borax - a tale about trying to kill the ants that live off the crumbs the kids leave in the dining room

Heather K. said...

We have a few bare pasta fans- I love your poem. Desperation makes for great art, right?

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