An ode to spring

puddles, puddles, all around,
during spring rains, they can be found,
my little sister jumps about,
landing in the muddiest one, SPLOUCH!

the trees are growing green,
they grow bigger with each passing week,
my sister enjoys trees,
she hugs them rather than play hide-and-seek,

the birds return,
and sing new songs,
my sister points and runs,
singing along,

we sees squirrels climbing,
into the shade of the leaves,
I hear my sister remark,
'is that the chupah?' gleefully,

we ride our bikes,
the wind roars in my ears,
but my sister announces her dislikes,
"the ground is too disagreeable year!"

I see my sister in the backyard,
on the swings, she plays,
while she talks to herself,
about a coloring book maze,

I make my school lunch,
as the spring sun sets,
my sister sits near, hands on her hips,
"what a nice view!" she nipped

This is my ode to spring,
a poem if you will,
spring can be beautiful,
and the PT, wackier still..

Kriah-blunders

I was reading Kriah with the PT one night, and she wasn't pronouncing the Shvah-nas. So I tried to show her how to do it.


"Here the PT, watch. You go cRIah......tiZIveh......kaMIno...

"Um, iguana? I think you're being too dramatic about this."

A piggybank of world-breaking proportions

Lately the PT has been scourging the house at questionable hours talking to herself. I decided to investigate before the usual police riot of having to put her to bed. As I sneaked in the shadows, following her every footstep, I was able to pick up some of her lines;

"No, this one won't do at all"
"What does a girl have to do to get a decent one these days?"
"Hmm....I haven't tried iguana's room. Let's try there"

What was she looking for? The question rang in my head. I tiptoed upstairs, as I knew that was her next destination. I crept into my room and hid in the closet. Soon, the PT entered the room, and shouted a few times;

"HEEEEEEELLLLLOOOOOOOO?!"

My parents were out for the night, and when the PT got no response after five or six yodels, she fell silent and flicked on the room's light. She dug around my drawers until finally she let out a triumphant "ah-ha!". I slipped closer to the closet door to see what she had discovered, and she clutched in her hands a small purse. She pounded the purse a few times with her fist, and threw it around the room, enjoying the tingling sound my spare change made inside. Finally, she unzipped the small purse and remarked:

"Hmm....Well, I don't know who's money this is, but I can take it!"



The next morning, I awoke to see the PT sitting calmly on my legs, apparently waiting for me to wake up. She noticed me and screamed "iguana, my wallet is gone!"

I sat up and blinked a few times.
"You had a wallet?"
"Duh! Didn't you ever notice!?"
"um...no....?"
"well, anyway, it's gone! I had all my money in there too!"
"how much money did you have?"
"er....about three pennies, a quarter, and a dime. THAT'S A LOT OF MONEY IGUANA!"
"okay, okay, I'll help you find it."

And the great journey began.....

A Fair Trade?

pt: Blargh! iguana! You killed my feet! You soaked them to death!

exclaims the pt whilst we walk into the house through the back door.

me: sorry pt. Do you want me to bury them?

pt: no no no. It's no use. They'll never move again!

me: what a shame

pt: well...I suppose they would move again.

me: ?

pt: well...a thousand years from now, someone will probably dig all the dead people up

me: why?

pt: duh! Because in a thousand years, we'll be trading planets with the martians!

me: ?

pt: you wouldn't sell someone a planet full of dead people, would you?