An Open Letter To My Favorite Grandsons

Dear Abe and Gollie,

I would like for both of you to please remember to ask all the crayons not to scream so much while we’re eating our new favorite cereal: Kitty Kat Krunchies. Yes, I know they look just like the dry cat food that’s in Freddy the Freeloader’s bowl, but believe me, all the insects in the yard are cheering when our refrigerator tires go flat.

Do either of you remember when we never sang that “Hey Thanks For The Dried Compost” song?? Well I know I sure would. In fact wood has never been more colorful when sniffed during a Dried Fly Moon. All the fancy nose stockings will surely be reminded to cross the street quickly when the Purple Dust Mixing Bowls come zooming past the stinkberry patch.

Holy Cow!! I forgot to tell you: I’ve changed my elbows into toilet paper tubes!! I’ve waited all my life for my elbows to experience the same crackly shouting noise a greasy buffalo makes when it’s yelling at the traffic lights. Of course, Sir Wilbur Snackhammer of Floofington Castle will be making his famous Mac and Cheese Toothpick Snacks while the rest of us sit around burping loudly during pet food commercials. Oh yes, these are the days for celebrating!! Send around a bag of nails!! Chase a few tree shadows!! Jump backwards into a small pile of figs!! And don’t forget to recite that new Apple Smashing poem I’ve never heard about!!

Ching!! Ching!! Ching!! goes the huge rock when it’s dropped on a glass of water. The noise is delicious; and reminds me of the time my big toe was shooting gumballs out of each radio muscle. Sometimes people give me strange looks when I’m trying to lick my ears; but I just figure they are jealous because they can’t teach their own basketballs how to speak Italian. All the moss flavored candy in the world is not enough to make me want to yell “KABOOM!!” every time a freshly picked pizza cabbage comes rolling into the house. So please don’t try to tell ME how fast a battery can roll into a ketchup scanner!! What do you think this is?? Anyhow??

In closing, thank you for being who you are, and especially for not being me. As the old saying goes, “it’s always better to be you that for you to be me; and although you can count to it, eight is a word.” Therefore, my dear young men, go softly into Dirty Sock Forest and try very hard not to wake up the moochy moochy monsters. Yes I know they are harmless; but all this shouting of “moochy moochy!!” is especially delightful when I shave my new fruit basket. One time they even offered me some creamy rust powder to drink with my liquid donuts. I respectfully told them to take their wiggly eyebrows and their strange headlight sausages elsewhere.

Now I can’t find my pants.

Peace, Love, and Very Quiet Shouting,

Norzle P. Yendlebonk – “The Traveling Mustard Thief”