Gulp. OMG. It’s a cat! I don’t like this one bit. Mom came home with tons of these pictures the other day, and I’m not happy.
OK. I’m just going to say it. I’m afraid of cats – and this one is wearing a HAT! I’m a little afraid of hats, too. When it’s hat time, Mom says, “Sit still.” and she balances a hat on my tiny head. Then she takes my picture. After that, I try to eat the hat, until she says, “Drop the hat and you can have a cookie.”
Mom got Cat in the Hat gifts after visiting some school kids and reading them a story and some poems. She says Cat in the Hat is a poem. She doesn’t fool me. I know about cats. They are not “a poem” – they are mean, scratchy creatures. Come to think of it, hats are mean and scratchy, too.
Who turned out the lights?
I don’t really know what a poem is. Maybe Mom will show me., but first, I hope she gets rid of that scary cat in a hat. She says she’s putting it in her scrapbook. Good. Scrap that cat in a hat.
A Poem by
A hideous monster is under my bed.
His skin is pale purple. His eyes are bright red!
His nails are like pigs’ tails. His tongue is real thick.
I’m under the covers, but WHOA, I feel sick.
My mom heard me screaming. She said not to shout.
I turned on the vacuum to suck the fiend out.
He’s gone for the moment from under my bed.
He’s inside the vacuum, I doubt if he’s dead.
The hideous vacuum – I won’t turn it on.
I can’t do my chores till the monster is gone.