Photo: Pinterest
In the messy path of life
Dreams flurry in
Goals exhale partly out,
And in the lovely expectation
Of more order
In a few,
Lives the absolute prediction
That periodic tangle
Will ensue.
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Life Shambolic
Funny
It’s a Puzzle!
Photo: Amitai Asif
“Can animals be naked?” he asked, his little forehead creased in perplexed concentration.
“Naked how?” I responded. “Animals don’t usually wear clothes. People may dress their dogs with coats or booties if its raining or snowing, but even that only sometimes.”
He waved me off. “I’m not talking about dogs, even.”
I smiled. The kindergartener’s contenance was a smaller version of adolescents’ exasperation at the ‘know-nothing-adults’ they are somehow expected to live with.
“Oh, okay.” I conceded, “I guess I misunderstood. What did you mean, then?”
“Other things. Like, um … snakes.”
“Snakes?!” I repeated.
“Yeah.” He moved his head up and down for emphasis. “Because I think maybe a snake took his clothes off and ran away and now he’s naked.”
Comprehension slithered in to lift my confusion. “Was this when you went to visit your grandma in Arizona?”
He nodded again. “It looked like a snake but it was only snake clothes.”
I grinned. “I think you saw a snake skin shed! How cool! But don’t worry, it still has skin on its body. You see, when a snake’s skin is too small for it, it grows new skin underneath and then it wriggles out of the old skin and sheds it inside out like a sock.”
The little boy narrowed his eyes and inspected my expression to see if I was perhaps pulling his leg. What he saw in my face must’ve reassured him.
“Good,” he said. “Because I didn’t want everyone to see his privates.”
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Tooth Booth
Photo: Craftgawker.com
“I have a cavity in my mouth!” she announced, elated.
“You do?” I couldn’t suppress a smile. The contrast between the child’s delight and the mom’s anguish was too funny.
“Yeah,” the girl expounded, lisping all the way. “It’s a hole! The dentist has a special magic mirror for my teeth and she looked all over and she said I have a cavity.”
“Wow,” I managed and raised an eyebrow at the mom, who nodded solemnly.
“Next week,” the mother sighed. “I’m not looking forward to it …”
I understood why. This little girl could raise roofs at the mere sight of needles. Just ten days prior the mom had shared with me her mortification at the horrified looks people had given her when she’d emerged with her child from a routine blood draw. “Everyone in that waiting room must have been convinced we were slicing her in pieces,” the mom had vented. “I can’t believe they hadn’t all called Child Protective Services or 911.”
“Laughing gas …” I mouthed.
The mom inhaled and shrugged and nodded all in one. Skeptical and perhaps a little hopeful.
“Not next week,” the child pointed out. “Tonight!”
The mom and I exchanged looks.
“What do you mean, tonight?” the mother asked. “Doc Dee said she’ll see us after lunch next Tuesday.”
“Yeah,” the little girl waved this information away. “But I have a cavity,” she stressed. “So the Tooth Fairy is going to get it first.”
She opened her mouth to give us both a good look before turning to me. “I don’t know why the dentist needed a magic mirror,” she added and her voice rose in puzzlement. “I can see my cavity right away already.”
She held her mouth agape and pointed to a newly lost incisor. “See? It’s right here.”
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Ghoulish Goulash
Old Fashioned Goulash (Yummly.com)
She hates soup. She hates stew.
She can’t stand beef. Tomatoes, too.
She doesn’t care if it’s tradition.
She doesn’t care it’s grandma’s edition.
To her the concept is just foolish
And your goulash is plain ghoulish.
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Definite Identity
Photo: Inbar Asif
“The fact of being
Who or what
A person
Or thing
Is.”
A name.
A self.
A singularity.
A distinct
Individuality.
A recognition of
An original
Personality.
(Poem inspired by the Oxford Dictionary)
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A Pun Discovery
Photo: Ofir Asif
The five-year-old bounded up the stairs. I could hear him giggling. He stopped two steps below the landing and tilted his head at me. A brown curl flopped over one eye and he blew at it.
“When does a duck duck?” he challenged.
I grinned at his giddiness. Language for this child had just began to turn more fun than frustration, and his emerging fascination was delicious. “When?”
He chortled. “When you throw something at it! Because …” he demonstrated, bobbing so deeply that I reached over to grab his shoulder to ensure he didn’t lose his balance on the steep stairs, “duck … like this … is same as … quack quack duck!”
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“Just a Little Bit of Crumbs”
Photo: Knoell8504, https://commons.wikimedia.org/
It was a few minutes before dinner.
He wanted a cookie.
His mother said the timing wasn’t great. He’ll have to wait. Can get one for dessert.
He frowned. His lips turned down in a pout but puckered in consideration as his eyes inspected the contents of the transparent cookie jar.
“But maybe I can taste it now,” he bargained. “Just a teeny tiny cookie, like this,” he pointed to a broken piece at the bottom of the jar. “You see, Mama? Just a little bit of crumbs …”
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Wacky Loo
LEGOLAND, Deutschland; Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein
It may not be the best planning
(Though extra points for depiction geared
For universal understanding …)
To include such giggle-making signing
Right where many are aligning
With legs already crossed in short queue pining …
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Rhyme Time
Photo: dragonhillart.blogspot.com
“Hi, bye, my, spy,” he walked in, grinning.
I smiled at the five-and-a-half year old. A head of brown curls and melt-you-on-the-spot dark-chocolate eyes, green glasses, summer freckles, a missing tooth from playground accident at age three, a superhero hearing aid. Pure charm.
“Why, shy, guy, cry?” he challenged.
“Why indeed?” I chuckled.
“Ask my dad,” he giggled. “He told me that one. One, sun, fun, done.”
“You’re rhyming a lot today!”
He nodded. “I’m practicing. My grandpa gives me a dime every time I rhyme.”
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Ode to Pests
Photo: Paul Dinning
For the pests
Who won’t rest
In their quest
To infest:
I suggest
You divest
Lest
I’ll wrest
Back my nest.
I don’t jest
It is best
As would surely attest
The unblessed
Who’d transgressed
And I had ‘addressed.’
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Na'ama Yehuda 
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