Bruce Lansky

My father gets quite mad at me; my mother gets upset— when they catch me watching our new television set. My father yells, “Turn that thing off!” Mom says, “It’s time to study.” I’d rather watch my favorite TV show with my best buddy. I sneak down after homework and turn the set on low. But when she sees me watching it, my mother yells out, “No!” Dad says, “If you don’t turn it off, I’ll hang it from a tree!” I rather doubt he’ll do it, ’cause he watches more than me. He watches sports all weekend, and weekday evenings too, while munching chips and pretzels— the room looks like a zoo. So if he ever got the nerve to hang it from a tree, he’d spend a lot of time up there— watching it with me.

If you should have the sniffles, you’d better blow your nose. Because if you should go “Achoo!” you’ll mess up all your clothes.

I climbed up the door and I opened the stairs. I said my pajamas and buttoned my prayers. I turned off the covers and pulled up the light. I’m all scrambled up since she kissed me last night.

I have a friend who’s not well dressed. He wears no hat. He wears no vest. Upon his back he wears no shirt, so you can see there’s lots of dirt. He wears no shoes upon his feet. He wears no pants upon his seat. In fact, he doesn’t wear a stitch, so he can scratch if there’s an itch. I hope that you don’t find him rude— my dog is happy in the nude.

On Mother's Day it isn't smart To give your mom a broken heart. So here are thing you shouldn't say To dear old mom on Mother's Day: Don't tell here that you'll never eat A carrot, celery, bean, or beet. Don't tell her you think smoking's cool. Don't tell her you've dropped out of school. Don't tell her that you've drowned the cat. Don't tell her that she looks too fat. Dont't tell her when you're grown you'll be A starving poet—just like me.

My mom brought home a violin so I could learn to play. She told me if I practiced hard I’d play it well someday. Without a single lesson, I tried to play a song. My fiddle squeaked, my fiddle squawked. The notes came out all wrong. My little brother fled the room. Mom covered up her ears. My puppy dog began to howl. My sister was in tears. My dad pulled out his wallet. He handed me a ten. He made me swear I’d never play that violin again.

My puppy’s in the garden. He loves to smell the flowers. To help them grow my puppy always sprinkles them with showers.

My baby brother has a bear that travels with him everywhere. He never lets the bear from sight. He hugs it in his crib at night. And when my brother’s diaper smells, the name of the bear is what he yells— which is a clever thing to do because my brother named it Pooh.

My mother says it’s childish and my father says it’s dumb— whenever they discover that I’m sucking on my thumb. It’s such a silly thing to do, as everybody knows. So now instead of sucking it I stick it in my nose.

I have a brief confession that I would like to make. If I dont get it off my chest I'm sure my heart will break. I didn't do my reading. I watched TV instead— while munching cookies, cakes, and chips and cinnamon raisin bread. I didn't wash the dishes. I didn't clean the mess. Now there are roaches eating crumbs— a million, more or less. I didn't turn the TV off. I didn't shut the light. Just think of all the energy I wasted through the night. I feel so very guilty. I did a lousy job. I hope my students don't find out that I am such a slob.