I’ve read this poem I wrote to Pookie and my Dad. The latter has been writing some of his own.
The Sherpa of the Moms
The sherpa of the moms says,
in a big country,
sweet dreams are made of beans.
Po-ta-toe, Po-ta-to
Suck on a tit , not a baby’s bottle.
A carrot and a stick will make your
infant not a toddler.
A pureee gourmet,
Cry in the morning and not for his father.
The sherpa of the moms says,
in a big country,
creams are made of pleas.
If it helps, I was inspired by these 2 songs while shopping at the Giant.


