There once was a boy named Robert
That hated doing chores
He would never get them done
He was always on the run
Until his mother got mad
Which made him sad
So he decided to do his chores.
That hated doing chores
He would never get them done
He was always on the run
Until his mother got mad
Which made him sad
So he decided to do his chores.
(Robert wrote this poem for his Wednesday night Bible class. A few days later, he was too 'busy' to put up his clean laundry, so his mother stacked it neatly on top of his head and snapped the above picture.)
5 comments:
Halloween costume?
Gazelle: Great idea!
This reminds me of a favorite poem...
Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout
Would not take the garbage out!
She'd scour the pots and scrape the pans,
Candy the yams and spice the hams,
And though her daddy would scream and shout,
She simply would not take the garbage out.
And so it piled up to the ceilings:
Coffee grounds, potato peelings,
Brown bananas, rotten peas,
Chunks of sour cottage cheese.
It filled the can, it covered the floor,
It cracked the window and blocked the door
With bacon rinds and chicken bones,
Drippy ends of ice cream cones,
Prune pits, peach pits, orange peel,
Gloppy glumps of cold oatmeal,
Pizza crusts and withered greens,
Soggy beans and tangerines,
Crusts of black burned buttered toast,
Gristly bits of beefy roasts. . .
The garbage rolled on down the hall,
It raised the roof, it broke the wall. . .
Greasy napkins, cookie crumbs,
Globs of gooey bubble gum,
Cellophane from green baloney,
Rubbery blubbery macaroni,
Peanut butter, caked and dry,
Curdled milk and crusts of pie,
Moldy melons, dried-up mustard,
Eggshells mixed with lemon custard,
Cold french fried and rancid meat,
Yellow lumps of Cream of Wheat.
At last the garbage reached so high
That it finally touched the sky.
And all the neighbors moved away,
And none of her friends would come to play.
And finally Sarah Cynthia Stout said,
"OK, I'll take the garbage out!"
But then, of course, it was too late. . .
The garbage reached across the state,
From New York to the Golden Gate.
And there, in the garbage she did hate,
Poor Sarah met an awful fate,
That I cannot now relate
Because the hour is much too late.
But children, remember Sarah Stout
And always take the garbage out!
Shel Silverstein, 1974
david...i have a question for you. i have so enjoyed reading and looking at old post in your blog...but, the wink sink hole...i had never heard about it and i live right here in west texas. how and why does it have water in it? has that ever been explained? has there been any changes in it in the past recent years? very interesting!! oh...and i love the chores blog by robert. very funny! please fill me in on the sink hole??
Anonymous #1: Very good poem! I will share it with Robert!
Anonymous #2: There is water at the bottom of the Wink sinks because that's the water table down there. They are deep enough to reach the water table.
As for the changes in the sinks, Wink Sink #1 was pretty stable for about 20 years, then oddly enough it began to grow again when the second sink opened up in 2002. A thorough scientific study of both sinks is planned.
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