Thank goodness I have an endless well of inspiration for such articulately crafted eastern-rooted poetry. No really, THANK GOD!
My Poop Has Texture, from Archer's P.O.V:
I grab my poopy
And when Mommy screams real loud
I smack her quiet
He's Right. It Really Is Quite Textured, in a mother's words:
Ever been poop slapped?
It isn't so glamorous
(Talk about war-paint.)
Anyone else out there have any poop-war-stories as of late? Please do share in the comments. I'm thinking it would make for a great book, no?