Please Excuse Me While I Edit Your Blog


“Nothing spells nightmare like a misplaced comma.”

Benji wants to be an editor when he grows up? What do you want to be? Whether you want to be a world class chef or a makeup artist to the zoo monkeys . . .

Believe in yourself and your dreams.

The rest, kid, it will come. 🙂


A Poem From a Kid: Green Cat!


A Musing By Emily

Dear Mean Green Cat,

Cat’s are not green. So why are YOU green?

You got my green marker, didn’t you? Why did you do that?

Now I don’t have a green marker. It was my favorite.

And now I have to give you a bath.

Thanks a lot, Green Cat.

You ruined my weekend.


Toilet Frog: A True Story of Moms Who REALLY Hate Slimy Stuff


I arose in the midnight

After having too much tea,

And with my eyes half shut

I tiptoed to go pee.

But just before I flushed,

Something caught my eye.

It was green! It was slimy!

It had four legs and two eyes!

When you live in the country

And it rains bogs and bogs . . .

Apparently it also rains

Mounds of toilet frogs!

So how did you get in there,

Amphibian in the commode?

Are you a new species

Of mutant sewer toad?

I wake my son to fish you out

And put you on the deck.

The next morning you’re back again . . .

In the toilet? What the heck!?

Next time YOUR mom wakes up

In the middle of the night . . .

Please oh, do make certain

That she turns on the light!

Tiny tadpoles, warty toads

Or commode pollywogs . . .

Your mom may be the next victim

Of my good friend toilet frog.


A Poem From a Kid: Donuts


A Poem by Emily

A donut is a cookie with a bellybutton.

Which is cool because bellybuttons are cute.

But if a donut had legs I would not eat it.

That would be just a little too weird.

If it had arms I would leave at the bakery.

If it had eyeballs I would run screaming.

If it talked to me . . .

I would call my dad because I am not supposed to talk to strange donuts.


A Poem from a Kid: Everybody Picks Their Nose



A Musing by Emily

Everybody picks their nose.

Even your mom and dad.

Your teacher probably picks her nose.

The president – he does too.

You just don’t know it cause the Secret Service stands so close to him.

Everyone picks their nose.

Your grandma, your grandpa, your Uncle Jordy.

Your little brother – well, duh. He always does it.

I think picking your nose is just fine . . .

But eating what you pick is not OK.


Poetry Month: What Happens When You Shove EVERYTHING Under the Bed


Please don’t look under my bed . . .

You might just lose your head.

I whacked the pizza twice

But I still don’t think its dead.

If you do look under there

You will find my underwear!

I think it’s grown eyes and legs

And possibly facial hair.

The pudding from last week

Has really begun to reek!

I put it in my backpack . . .

Then it melted and it leaked.

The dinosaurs have grown mad

Eating food that has gone bad!

They have formed a small army –

And they like to eat moms and dads.

My bed please pass it by

If you want to keep your eye.

But if you really want to look . . .

Please kiss your tush goodbye.


Really Boring Superheroes : Monster-Beneath-the-Bed-Man!


Monster-Beneath-the-Bed Man:

Made up of last week’s underpants, old pudding, LEGO blocks and socks your mom begged you to change three months ago.

Super purpose: Makes sure that no real monsters nest beneath your bed by making it too crowded for them to fit and far too stinky for them to want to.

Sidekick: Monster-In-The-Closet Dude

*Teachers, can’t get your kids to really get into writing this year? Mix it up. Give them a chance to shine at topics they love and even your most stubborn student just might surprise you!