Here in Blogland, on February 2nd, it is customary to post a poem in honor of the patron saint somebody of poetry. In my entire life, I have only ever committed one poem to memory. Here goes:
There's too many kids in this tub
There's too many elbows to scrub
I just washed a behind that I'm sure wasn't mine
There's too many kids in this tub.
Thank you Shel Silverstein. These words have been rolling around in my head for many years and I actually find it strange how many times I call upon them to entertain me when I should be thinking of something important. And please excuse my lack of a photo in this post. Anything appropriate may cause the FBI to show up at my door.