a poem by Shel Silverstein
"I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
'I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more-- that's seventeen,
And don't you think that my face looks green?
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke--
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is sore, my ankle's sprained,
My appendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb,
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my spine is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my jaw ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say that today is... Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!"
A poem that hits close to immediate home - minus the Saturday stuff of course... ask the me 7 years ago about THAT. Let's see... somewhere between Darren's mom's and a late dinner the other night I caught a nasty bug. I bet it has horns and giggles, invites his other nasty little friends over. All I know is there's a party going on inside of me and I'm definatley not invited. Hot, cold, hot, cold, fever, no fever, vomit, no vomit, sore throat, little bit of a sore throat, headache, little headache. BLAH!!!! I hope I can make it to work tomorrow, money is a terrible thing that I need in a terrible way.
The god of the day is DayQuil. Oh how I wish Shel were around to write a funny poem about that, too, because then I could share it with you!