As I mentioned in the last entry I was bit by an industrious bug over the New Years' break and not only cleaned and organized the condo I also cooked up two pots of stew for the book club ladies. Well, frankly they didn't eat enough of the stew and I've got bowls of it every where. It's like a Dr. Seuss book in my house:
Bowls of stew in my shoes, in my tub and on my couch
Pots of stew in my plants, in my pants and on my slouch
There are spoons of stew on my telly, in my belly and in my pouch
I've got stew in tupperware, in underwear and under there,
I've got doles of stew in holes and in big round bowls.
Heaps and deeps of smelly stew is on the floor
There are piles and miles of stew waiting by the door
I've even taken a pound to the neighbor who cried "No MORE!"
I've got stew under my pillow and by the willow, and it's just a hunch
that I'll be eating stew for ages every dinner, every breakfast and of course lunch!
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