Can it possibly be Wednesday again already? The Great All Mediocre Giveaway of 2008 is still going strong. Check it out! It’s open to every one. Since we’re not traveling the blogosphere at All Mediocre while Meghan gives away fantastic prizes, I’m taking a break from spinning you tales of my past travels as well. But, I can’t send you away with nothing to show for your visit. That would be rude. I offer you a poem, like a rose in my outstretched palm. Godspeed.
A Sonnet to Bath Time
Bath time how I hate thee? Let me count the ways.
I hate thee to the depth and breadth and height
Your grunge can reach, when scrubbing out of sight
For the ends of clean toes and butts and face.
I hate thee for the poop and pee
Placed in thine water, it’s just not right.
I hate thee freely, as babies strive to drink.
I hate thee purely, if I leave, they sink.
I hate thee with a passion put to use
In exuberant splashing, the bathroom’s put to waste.
I hate thee with a hate I cannot lose
Despite my children’s love of thee — until the end.
Screams, tears, they lack not breath! Without some booze,
I think that thou shalt truly cause my death.
[With apologies to Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861)]