My hands, my feet, my eyeballs are all sweaty.
It’s the hottest day ever!
My face alone is redder than spaghetti!
Nose pressed to the window I’m dying to go out!
But it won’t be fun.
‘Cuz we’re in a drought.
“Mom! I gotta have a popsicle to cool down
Or else I’m going to turn into a lava kid,
And won’t be able to play around.”
“No treats before lunch,”
My mom replied, without blinking an eye.
“You can have a carrot if you want something to munch.”
“But moooom, you don’t understand.
I can’t play on a hot day!
Without a popsicle I’ll melt into the land…
It won’t be very grand.”
“At least you’re not in the desert now,”
My mother said, patting my head.
“You’d be hotter than a barbequed cow.”
Our weather is quite alright.
I promise you that you won’t get fried.
Now dearie, go be lava outside.”
Slipity, Slapity, Slop
my lava drips onto the sidewalk.
“It’s hot as my snot!” I said, with a plop.
“If you were in the Earth’s core,
you’d feel like a hot dog
in the mouth of a dinosaur,”
said my mom.
Stompity, glompity, flurp
“Little sand people stop your work!”
I cry as their sand castle siren goes BURP.
The sand folks bustle about.
They grab their croaking goats,
And seaweed coats, then give a shout
Then jump onto their boats and float.
I guess it’s a little fun,
to crash, smash, and splash about.
Out here in the hot snot sun.
Drip, drip, drop
“It’s hot as snot but I don’t care!
I’m the queen of blocks at this stop!”
“Sweetie, you’ve have behaved great.
I won’t make you wait for lunch.
If you come to the table, I’ve got a popsicle sitting on a plate.”
“Wow! You’re pretty sweet,”
I said, giving her a messy lava hug.
“But I’m okay without a treat.
It’s much hotter on the sun.
And playing here
is much more fun.”
My little sister gave my mom a pout,
her face as red as a cherry.
She started to run about and shout.
“I wanna moon pie!
I need it now
Or I go bye, bye.
I’ll go up, up to the stars
and be an alien
livin on Mars!”