I’ve been sending notes in the kids’ lunches since they started school earlier this week. Alexis loves getting notes about how much we love her and how much we miss her. Timothy, being older and more cynical (no idea where that came from), would mock any sort of emotional display or hide under the lunch table in embarrassment. So the first day, I sent him a charming little limerick about a guy running away from a bear. He informed me it was not funny. I tried again the second day with the classic guy from Kalamazoo who found a large mouse in his stew. When I asked how he liked it, he rolled his eyes and told me I just wasn’t funny. He said I should include jokes like the one his friend told:

Tim: “Are you PT?  (say ‘no’, Mom)”

Me: “Nooooo.?”

Tim: “You’re not potty-trained?”

Then he laughed for ten minutes.

 

Today’s limerick:

There once was a young boy named Tim,

Whose mother wrote poems for him.

He would often complain

That her poems were quite lame

So she gave up. The end.

Love,

Mom