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Why I Bring Home Sticklefarts

I was scratched and scraped to smithereens, 
But luckily had collected enough sticklefarts 
to bake a pie, and make some tasty tartlsnidds with greens. 
We have some cracklwhif, mom suggested with cozy hearts.

I ate a tiddlewad of hamburgers and some snackpoots to get ready
For the dessert hot out of the oven, and man was it ever fine!
My limperfitch said “Good job little humperwhip,” instead of Freddy.
A marvelous asswarpletrip from this man who always towed the line.

Can you boodenphasrhump yourself up enough to help me in the kitchen?
Asked my crabblicious sister who is always got some hives that are itch’n.
She cannot resist sticklefarts, and was glad to see her scarf down a pie.
Soon she had blotches all over her face, even over each one of her eyes.

“You know better!” Limerfitch said to her. “Get the Benadryl and go to bed.”
I had a chance to beat him at Sticklefingke and I smirked in my head.
Part of me gets scratched up and soiled just to see my sister get sent away.
Because it is more fun to win a game than lose every single time you play.





Copyright © Caren Krutsinger

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