Tag: classy

The Empty Juice Box Blues – Poetry Friday

No, I don’t have a four-year old wunderkind that may, sometimes act up. Especially if there’s too much juice involved. Why do you ask?

The Empty Juice Box Blues

by Jim Hill

I’ve had me some timeouts,
My best friends are fools,
My teacher’s been on me,
For breaking the rules.

Don’t run in the classroom.
Keep your hands in your lap.
Sand’s not for throwing.
I’m caught in a trap!

There’s just no denying,
When something is true.
I’ve got the too-restless-for-nap-time.
Empty juice box blues.

Got pulled out of snack time,
For being a slob.
Had a small problem,
With a red jello blob.

Things didn’t go better,
At craft table time.
I turned my green paint
Into thick-booger-slime.

Now Mommy’s been called in,
Daddy’s coming too.
I’ve got the you’re-gonna-be-grounded
Empty juice box blues.


Elaine over at the Wild Rose Reader is hosting Poetry Friday this week. Pop over there and soak up some serious stanzas, couplets and stuff.

A Funny Story About Monkeys and Pants

I’ve had a lot of fun showing off giving out my new card to just about anyone that shows the tiniest bit of interest in what I do. But more than a few folks have asked why the monkey is wearing pants. Well, there’s a funny story that goes with that particular character design, so pull up a chair and set a spell.

A few months ago my three year old son started calling almost all of his stuffed animals “her”, “she” or giving them girl names. Now, I don’t have a problem with that, I’m more Alan Alda than Charlton Heston, and if he wants to explore gender issues with his toys, so be it. But I was curious, so I decided to ask him when the time was right.

Later that week we were going through the bedtime routine; read two stories, one last trip to the potty, back to bed for snuggling (awwww….). He decided he wanted the little elephant that I called Eubie but he insisted was Ellie. Great, thinks I, here’s my chance.

“Isaac, why do you think so many of your stuffed animals are girls?”

He picked up the elephant, turned it around so the back end was facing me and, with the sincerity that only a child can muster said,

“Look, Daddy, no bulbs.”

Yep, Isaac had gleaned that fact the boys have “bulbs” and girls do not (gosh they grow up so fast).

And that’s why the monkey wears pants. No snot nosed kid is going to tell me that Little Mister Monkey is really Little Miss Monkey ’cause he’s got no junk. And I’m not about to start drawing anatomically correct animals for kids. Besides, who wants to do that research? (Never google anything about animal genitals, I beg you).

I'm all boy. Take my word on it.
I say we believe him.


Poem in Your Pocket Day


by Jim Hill

Of all the noises I can make
the one that always takes the cake,
surprises some, and spooks a few,
is the mating call of the Groo.

Now don’t look shocked it’s not obscene,
The Groo is chaste and most serene.
When he finds he’s in the mood
He strikes a pose and cops a ‘tude.

The music starts, a string quartet,
don’t blush now, they’re almost set.
He clears his throat and with a start
lets loose a ripping, roaring fart.