Sick

No one is sick. I did get your attention though, didn't I?

It was another paper sorting day recently, and I came across something to share. I have noticed several bloggers in the blogosphere are retired teachers.  I have cousins who are teachers and many friends who have spent time in the classroom. Of course, all parents have undoubtedly experienced this as well. I think everyone will enjoy this poem. Also, now I have another piece of paper to throw out and can find this writing again on my blog whenever I want. Life is good. And Spring is coming.

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3/11/2016  True Confession

This is one of those write ahead posts which bloggers try to have on hand just in case life gets in the way or we run out of something to say. My situation is generally the former.  So a few weeks ago I published the poem "Sick" with the above the line introduction. A day or two ago, I discovered I had not updated the publish date and it appeared on Cousins back in November. I doubt anyone looked for it there. My planned post for today was to explain all of this and give you the link to the poem. However, extra clicking might be more time than you want to give to Cousins today. So I reverted it to a draft and will publish, more accurately re-publish it here.  It is such a great poem. I didn't want you to miss it.

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Sick     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 my face looks green
My leg is cut, my eyes are blue--
It might be instamatic flu.
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 wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix 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 spine 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 today is........Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!"