Written and copyright © 2011-2013 by Thomas N. Bulkowski. All rights reserved.
This is a quick ditty that I really enjoy. It's interesting how the phrasing defines a youngster without giving an age.
Written: May 2003
Estimated reading time: 1 minute
I don't listen to my Mom.
She keeps telling me to wash my hands with soap. Our soap is green and comes in bars larger than my fist, some square, some round, but they are all slimy and hard to hold. This one is supposed to smell like an Irish spring, but it doesn't. It just smells. And this green torpedo is really slippery. Three times it's jumped out of my hands and dived into the garbage disposal. Once, I turned on the switch and filled the kitchen with bubbles! Mom was pissed. Really pissed.
That's why I don't listen to my Mom. I never wash my hands. Instead, I give the soap a bath.
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-- Thomas Bulkowski
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Written and copyright © 2011-2013 by Thomas N. Bulkowski. All rights reserved. All I ask is a chance to prove that money can't make me happy!