My Limerick

• When I was in sixth grade I wrote a limerick of which I was very proud at first. I fully expected my teacher to go into raptures over it. But she passed over it without comment. I was hurt and confused. That began a series of questions for me: I guess my limerick really wasn't good? Is my whole world view askew? My judgment was juvenile and useless? Would I ever amount to a hill of beans? Well, I am happy to say that decades of self-analysis have led me to believe that, not only am I fully equal in value to a hill of beans, but my limerick was indeed good no matter what. Maybe it was OTHERS' world views that were askew after all, but I really don't care. Now I have recovered from that passive attack on me and have written many a limerick since then. But today I reach back to my sixth grade self and say, "Girl, your limerick rocks, and though you may write many more limericks categorized as fair to good, you will never write its equal." And here, ladies and gentlemen, is that limerick.

I once met a dog whose hair was so flowing

That I really had no way of knowing

which end was his head

once stopped me and said,

"Please, sir, am I coming or going?"

• Disclaimer: There has been a rash of haiku-writing lately, but I swear I conceived of the limerick blog-subject well before said rash.
• So far I am digging New Amsterdam. The best part is the main actor's ability to use every accent to English known in the present world, rapid fire. To state again, one accent after the other, quickly, if you will. I've never heard anything like it.
• Quotation of the day: "Mom, should I wear these shorts to school today?" (I stare blankly in this pause) "Not really, Mom. I'm too morally correct." ---Rebekah H.