What with book critiques and Big Bird, things have been too heavy around here lately. Especially for what’s supposed to be a light-hearted blog.
So let’s reprise a story I shared when this was still a fledgling blog with maybe three or four readers. It loosely ties the recent theme of children’s books in with the seasonal topic of Halloween. Sort of.
Admittedly, this could probably never be a real children’s book. But I still get a kick out of it. I hope you will too.
Enjoy!
by Pat Byrnes, who is not a monster. Honest.
Monster baby, monster baby,
Whatever you’ve done and whatever you do,
Your monster mommy will always love you.
But what if I chop off your feet with an axe
And cover the carpet with fish hooks and tacks
And scorpions carrying bees on their backs?
Your monster mommy will run to you.
But what if I stab a syringe in your legs
And pump them with buckets and bushels and kegs
Of maggots and muck and tarantula eggs?
Your monster mommy will stand by you.
But what if I slip you a couple of sips
Of flesh-eating virus that eats off your lips,
Dissolving your face to a dribble of drips?
Your monster mommy will never stop kissing you.
But what if I pulverize all of your bones
To fine smithereens, while I dance to your groans,
Make tea of the powder and drink it with scones?
Your monster mommy will never stop hugging you.
But what if I claw a big hole in your chest
And swap out your heart for a rattle snake nest,
Whose slithering generally causes unrest?
Monster baby, monster baby,
Rip out my heart and embalm it in goo,
Cut up my guts for a hash or a stew,
Flush my remains down the pot in the loo,
Your monster mommy will always, always, ALWAYS love you.
Because that’s what mommies do.
And Monster Daddy doesn’t even have a speaking role. Typical.
Oops. Guilty, as charged.