As soon as Fred gets out of bed, his underwear goes on his head. His mother laughs, “Don’t put it there, a head’s no place for underwear!” But near his ears, above his brains, is where Fred’s underwear remains. At night when Fred goes back to bed, he deftly plucks it off his head. His mother switches off the light and softly croons, “Good night! Good night!” And then, for reasons no one knows, Fred’s underwear goes on his toes.
From Something BIG Has Been Here, published by Greenwillow, 1990. Used with permission.
it came today to visit and moved into the house it was smaller than an elephant but larger than a mouse first it slapped my sister then it kicked my dad then it pushed my mother oh! that really made me mad it went and tickled rover and terrified the cat it sliced apart my necktie and rudely crushed my hat it smeared my head with honey and filled the tub with rocks and when i yelled in anger it stole my shoes and socks that's just the way it happened it happened all today before it bowed politely and softly went away
From The Queen of Eene, published by Greenwillow, 1974. Used with permission.
“My stomach’s full of butterflies!” lamented Dora Diller. Her mother sighed. “That’s no surprise, you ate a caterpillar!”
From The New Kid on the Block, published by Greenwillow, 1984. Used with permission.
"I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more—that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut—my eyes are blue—
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke—
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is—what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is. . .Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!"
From Shel Silverstein: Poems and Drawings; originally appeared in Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein. Copyright © 2003 by HarperCollins Children's Books. Reprinted by permission of the publisher. All rights reserved.