Friday, June 27, 2008

One of those mornings when Gideon didn't want to do anything. Didn't want to get dressed. Didn't want to sit on the potty. Didn't want breakfast. Didn't want to kiss mommy. Didn't want to go to camp.

Finally I came up with something that he wanted to do.

Do you want to get locked in a box?

Yes, he most certainly wanted to get locked in a box. So I helped him get ready to be locked in a box. I helped him get dressed and served him breakfast so he could be locked in a box cause there's no food when you're locked in a box.

I drove him to speech camp, where they would lock him in a box if he asked to be locked in a box, but he had to be sure to ask.

Thank God he can't talk.


At 11:39 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I will not get locked in a box. I will not get locked with a fox.

I think your poem really gels in the 4th & 5th stanzas.

OMG - the heat is getting to me.

At 3:00 PM, Blogger Radish King said...

Oh Jesus you made me bark like a dog with snorty disgusting laughter which echoed down through the entire tower at my glamorous job which is sort of empty because most people forgot to come to work on account of it's 80 and sunny for the first time in 11 years.

At 8:39 PM, Blogger mama bee said...

I do not have nearly as interesting a comment as these other two but I did want to let you know it made me laugh out loud.

I will be filing this post away for future reference to use on my own child.


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