Grandpa Sanders was looking high and low. Into every drawer and into every closet and even into every mirror although his grandson Mark didn’t know what his Grandpa was searching so much for, especially in mirrors.
“Ah Papa…what are you trying to find?”
“Oh….I’m looking for something that I think I lost and can’t seem to locate.”
“Maybe I can help Papa.”
“Naw…I don’t believe so. It’s all up to me and me alone to find it.”
“Well…what is it Papa? Is it a book or a piece of jewelry…or a key…yeah…you are always losing your keys.”
“No…not those things. I lost something that you should never ever lose. Something you need everyday no matter how old you get to be.”
Mark was searching around under chairs and behind cabinets but admitted he actually was just trying to be helpful and had no clue as to what his grandpa had lost.
Then Grandpa Sanders stopped and squatted down and spoke directly at Mark.
“You’ve still got it and I want you to promise me you’ll never lose it no matter what!”
“Ah…well OK Grandpa…but it would help a whole lot to know what it is that I should never lose.”
“The “KID” in you. Even after you grow up and be a man and even when you get to be as old as me…always keep that kid that you are today inside of you.”
“Well…I think I kinda see what you mean Grandpa.”
Then Mark started to think and then a huge smile lit up Mark’s formerly sad face and he took his Papa’s hand.
“C’mon Grandpa…I think I know where you can find it again.”
Mark led Grandpa Sanders outside into the backyard and onto the playground filled with swings and a sliding board.
His Papa started to smile and run, not too fast, but still running, straight for the sliding board, climbed to the top and as he whooshed down the slide yelled out an unmistakable “WHEEEE!” and just about at the middle of the slide, Mark’s Grandpa found his lost “KID”.

When she was born Silvia noticed that the color of her scales was different from those of all of her brothers and sisters. Theirs were golden scales and made them look  like golden rays of sun swimming in the large pond which Silvia knew as “home”. And most of the other older fish inhabiting the pond were various shades of yellow and gold too. Silvia was more like the color of the rocks along the sides of her home and she wished that she were a beautiful golden shade too.

Also Silvia seemed to always get blamed for any trouble that, especially her brothers, would cause. When there was a commotion, except for feeding time of course, it seemed as though every creature in the pond stared at just her!
Some of the frogs were gray and the slugs were grayish but she was a “GOLD…fish” that somehow wasn’t very gold!

Silvia tried to swim in the bright sun rays that gleamed into the pond hoping to capture the sun’s color but it just made her look  more  silvery. Silvia did notice that the other fish were sometimes confused and weren’t sure which “Gold” fish was which and called them by the wrong names. But everyone knew who Silvia was, but that didn’t make Silvia feel special. And anyhow Silvia didn’t need to feel “special” she just wanted to fit in and be one of the school.

At school one day Silvia found out that she and all her family were CARP. And then she found out that not all carp are gold. In fact, Silvia was technically a Hypopthalmichthys Molitrix or Silver Carp. Well, fish, even carp, can’t write or spell so Silvia didn’t much care what she “technically ” was. Then the rest of her school started to tell her how beautiful that her silvery color was and that they wished that they were silver too. Even the Koi started telling her how they wished that they didn’t have “all these spots all over” and admired her flawless silvery complexion.

It was then that Silvia decided that it was better to appreciate who you are, and be the best “YOU” you can be instead of wishing that you were somebody else. Quite often, that someone else, wished that they were you!

“Get your heel outta my face please!”
“Hey…like I can help it or somethin’!  I got some ugly argyle toe in MY face!”
“Ah watch who yer callen ugly Laddie.”
“Yeah…well…I just want my mate…I haven’t seen Lefty in weeks.”
“Me too…it’s so nice in that sock drawer chattin’ with those other matched pairs…ah…I really  miss it.”
“The WORST are those athletic socks…they never really do get completely clean and they’re so thick and take up so much of our space here!”
Then there was a whimper and sob coming from the top of the pile.
“There there…you’ll be OK little one…we’re all here with you.”
The baby sock with it’s pink ruffle was very sad having just come from the last dryer load.
“I….I….think my match is…..ooohhhh….still in the dryer….CAUGHT!”
“Yeah…happened to golf sock over there…never did find his mate. Oh I shouldn’t have said that should I?”
“Boo Hoo…I’ll never see him again.”
“Now Now….it’ll be OK…you’ll see.
Then all of a sudden the woven basket that held them was lifted and dumped on the big bed. Then soon after, another pile of socks was thrown onto the bed.
“Hey….there’s my….HEY OVER HERE!”
Then human hands started matching up all the socks and folded and tucked the pairs together and threw them into the sock drawer. All of the socks were happy except one old striped one with a hole in the toe.”So long guys maybe I’ll see you all again soon.”
The little baby sock with the pink ruffle was still sad so the striped sock let it snuggle up as they were placed back into the woven basket.
“Maybe next time little one.” Then whispering to himself….”I HATE dryers!”

“Shhhh….hey hold it down….Tommy is not quite asleep yet.”
“How about now….I got this great idea….”
“NO…shhhh…just a few more seconds…..ah….OK Now…WHAT was such a great idea that it just couldn’t keep?”
“Well…Tommy’s dog Brownie gets lost and Tommy finds him in the woods stuck in a trap and frees him.”
“Naw…we did that one …let’see..last…..September….the….ah….18th….remember?”
“No….not really but then I’m not a memory cell just a dreamaker cell.”
“Yeah well….that’s the greatest cell to be in a brain. Those memory cells never have any fun unless Tommy has fun…but us….we’re different…we make our own fun for Tommy.”
“Yeah…I guess you’re right…I wouldn’t like being a memory cell at all.”
“OH NO!!!”
“What?”
“Here comes that awful nightmare cell….hurry….let’s give Tommy a fun dream….QUICK!!!”
“ICE CREAM STORE….where everything is free!!!!”
“Yeah….and you don’t get sick no matter how much ice cream you eat!”
“Yeah….good one …GO….HURRY…and NO BRAIN FREEZES either.”
“So….you GOODY GOODY DREAMAKERS gettin’ ready to give the kid a dream?”
“Ah…well sorry…Horribulis…we already took care of it…you’re just a bit late tonight!”
“DRAT! I’m not gonna be late tomorrow night….and if Tommy tries to take a nap in the afternoon he’ll have the worst daymare he’s EVER had!” Horribulis left in quite a huff!
“What a grumpy cell….I’m glad he’s gone.”
The next morning Tommy woke up with a big smile on his face and his dog Brownie was smiling too!

“Gee…gnats are a gnuisance” Phil said.
Then suddenly Phil heard a very very small high pitched voice say “Gnot all Gnats are Gnot Gnice Buddy!”
Phil looked around and couldn’t see where that itsy bitsy voice came from.
“Hey…Buddy…over here…gnot over there!” A tiny Gnat was yelling at Phil.
“Oh…yes….I think I see you.”
“Well…Gnats get a bad reputation…undeserved in my humble opinion.”
“Well….what do Gnats like you do?” asked Phil.
“Ah…we can pollinate orchids.”
“We don’t have any orchids…what else?”
“Ah…we can eat very tiny pests from plants.”
“They must be REALLY tiny all right.”
“Well…yeah….but we’re here anyway so live with it…besides I think that you are being a very big pest. You humans are always swatting at us poor gnats and that’s gnot gnice.”
Then Phil asked “Why do you spell your name with a “G” anyhow?”
“‘Cause we were gnamed by the same gnut that gnamed the Gnu!”

There once was a turtle named Myrtle
Who thought that she needed a girdle
One look in the mirror she found
That her body shape was quite round
Getting thin would pose quite a hurdle
She tried nearly every way to lose girth
But slimming ideas…there was a dearth
She thought maybe a skirt’ll
Hide some of Myrtle
But that was more trouble than worth
Then one morning at the edge of the pond
She met Tom Turtle of whom she was fond
“Myrtle you look so slim!”
Were the words said by him
Tom instantly for her was James Bond!

It was the middle of the night on a tiny farm in Placidville County and Dooley the Rooster was sleeping soundly when suddenly he awoke with a very sore throat. “I hope I’m not getting a cold” he thought to himself but since roosters can’t chew cough drops he just tried to go back to sleep hoping that he would get better before morning. After all, Dooley had his job to do as the official alarm clock of Small Town Farm. He couldn’t imagine what farmer Jones would think if Dooley didn’t crow in the dawn with his loud but scratchy “Cock A Doodle Doo”.

In fact sometimes Dooley was cock a doodle doodaling before Chester the rooster at the next farm would even be awake. Dooley heard that Chester was a bit lazy and though Dooley had never actually met Chester, the hens told Dooley that they had heard Chester wasn’t nearly as good at alarm clocking as Dooley.

But Dooley’s soreness kept getting worse and worse until when Dooley tried to clear his throat…nothing happened! No sound came out of his upturned beak…not even a whisper. “Oh My!” thought Dooley…because the sun was just inches from breaking above the Eastern horizon and his sore throat was as silent as a pile of dirt!

In two minutes the sun peaked its orange round head up over the Eastern fields and Dooley got up on the roof of the henhouse and threw back his head and opened his beak and tried as hard as he could but absolutely NO sound came out! Though Dooley tried and tried just silent air came out of his beak. Dooley attempted to Cock A Doodle Do for nearly an hour until he finally was so tired that he had to lie down on the roof shingles and he quickly fell asleep.

It was almost nine AM when Dooley woke up to the sound of farmer Jones yelling “DOOLEY…DOOLEY…what’s the matter with you rooster? We’ve all overslept because of you and the pigs didn’t get fed and the cows didn’t get milked and Ma Jones didn’t make me breakfast and…and…I’m really upset with you!”

Dooley tried to cackle down to farmer Jones but nothing came out again…but farmer Jones looked up to see Dooley trying to cackle or cluck or whatever roosters say when they aren’t Cock A Doodle Doodling and he said “Oh Dooley…have…you…LOST your voice?”

So Dooley pointed his right wing at his throat and tried again but just quiet air came out! Then off in the distance Dooley heard old Chester from the next farm over…crowing. “Lot of good that old rooster does crowing at 9 AM…But…well…at least Chester CAN crow.”

Dooley felt really sad now and slowly came down from his crowing place on the roof and farmer Jones picked him up and said…”Dooley…I think you have rooster laryngitis…I don’t know how long that lasts but I do have a great idea!”

Well, the farm day went by and then night time came and then all of the animals and farmer and Mrs. Jones went to bed and so did Dooley. About 4 AM Dooley woke up and tried out his Cock A Doodle Doodling voice but he still had rooster laryngitis or whatever farmer Jones called it, but as the sun peaked up over the Eastern fields Dooley remembered farmer Jones’ great idea…grabbed the battered old brass trumpet the farmer had given him and blew a song called ‘Reveille”.. Toot Toot Tooty Toot…and the lights went on in the farmhouse and the cows mooed and the pigs grunted and the hens cackled and the whole farm and EVEN the neighbor’s farm lit up and began their day right on time thanks to Dooley and his big brass trumpet.

Dooley eventually got his Cock A Doodle Doodling voice back but still blew the trumpet on special mornings…and Small Town Farm never woke up late again…EVER!

“May I introduce to you the King Of Silly.
To whom you always must bow willy nilly”
“And every time to him you address
Our Royal King… as “Your Sillyness!”

The Kingdom wasn’t always silly you see
It used to be as sad as any could be
Then our King one day passed a decree
“ALL subjects must at once be quite SILLY!”

Well many found it easy to be
As silly as…well as silly as he
But some like Mr. Perious
Had a difficult time not being serious

The King sent his envoy over to meet
With Mr. Perious living on Somber Street
But it didn’t take long to correct his woes
With huge orange shoes and a big red nose

Then there was the librarian named Miss Proper
She was always serious and we couldn’t stop her
A simple solution was a feather dress
That constantly tickled…everywhere you could guess

So the Kingdom was peopled with the silliest kind
That had never a serious thought on their mind
We were all happy telling jokes and singing a song
That is…until YOU came along!

GET SILLY!

Wally the worm’s North end was arguing with his South end about which way to go. When they both tried to go in different directions at the same time it would stretch Wally’s length almost double. It was a slimming activity but it actually hurt, plus the whole Wally wasn’t going ANYWHERE!
Then the North end of Wally decided to curve to the left and of course, the South end wanted to go…you guessed it….right!
After seven circles both ends realized that neither was getting anywhere again.
“Ok” Wally North said “How about if we go straight left for twenty seconds and then we can go straight right for twenty seconds?”
“Yeah…OK….but me first!” Demanded South.
“Whatever!” hurummphed Wally’s North end.
But after forty seconds Wally was back EXACTLY where he started.
“We’ve got to compromise if we intend to go ANYWHERE!” exclaimed North end.
“Hmmm” …was all that South end could utter but deep inside he knew North was right.
“OK” South said reluctantly what do we do to get to the mulch pile?”
“I know the way so I’ll take the lead and you can drive the back so that we don’t get whiplash!”
Well, South had to admit that it WAS a plan and he really wanted to get to that mulch pile so he agreed.
And that’s how Wally worm, both the North AND the South of him made a straight line to the mulch pile although South end always referred to it as the “MUNCH pile” which always made North end laugh.

A hummingbird was humming around

Making his smooth humming sound

While the canary was singing

Dulcet tones his throat bringing

Neither aware that the other’s around

Then the hummingbird sat on a limb

And the canary looked over at him

“Pardon me Chum Aren’t you the guy that can hum?”

“Yes and you’re the bird that sings on a whim!”

The canary felt somewhat dumb

Admitting that he wished he could hum

“Well I have no choice

I’ve no singing voice…

Oh I wish that I could sing some!”

“I’ll teach you to hum if you teach me to sing”

“Yes think of the joy we could both bring!”

So they each gave some lessons

But ended confessin’

That neither had learned anything!

“I guess I must do and I guess you must too…

Be happy for the talent we’ve got”

“So I’ll sing in the Spring”…

“And I’ll hum everything”…

“Can we be someone else?

“I guess not!”