I Love It....

As promised, two things here that are unprecedented (almost) - a bonus blog in the form of a poem! The poem has no connection to Christmas, but, hey, you can't have everything. It may find some use in our readers theater bunch, but that remains to be seen. You, today represent the very first audience for this outside our home. So there.

I Love It When It's Dirty
by Mark Bailey

I love it when it's dirty, 'cause
It's then I get to see
How grime and grit builds up around
My tummy, ears and knees.

I try to be real careful as
I look and make a check
To see if there is mud around
My tummy, ears or neck.

And when I reach up carefully to
Neatly comb my hair,
I'm later real surprised to find
What filth there is up there!

My mom gets hold of me sometimes
When playing time is through.
She looks me over, sniffs, then makes
A face and says "pee-yew!"

I know I'm dirty, sure, but why
Won't people cut me slack?
I get the dirt from earth, but then
I wash and send it back.

If dirt was good I'd be (I think)
The bestest kid in town.
But 'till it is, I'll have to scrub
Before the sun goes down.

There it is. Thank you very much for taking the time, and I hope to hear from you soon with regard to your opening in the tongue-in-cheek poetry division of Agglomorated Consolidated Industrial Applicational Analyticals, Inc.