A Perfect Mouse
A perfect mouse
Puts all his clothes away,
Neatly in their bins
With perfect folds.
A perfect mouse
Eats with his elbows off the table,
Careful not to slurp his soup
With each spoonful.
A perfect mouse
Brushes his teeth promptly at eight,
Making sure to get every tooth
Not wanting to get a cavity.
A perfect mouse
Goes to bed exactly at eight-thirty,
Keeping his night-light on
Not wanting to be attacked by the boogie cat.
My mouse
Puts all his clothes way,
Neatly on the floor
With perfect destruction.
My mouse
Eats with his face in the bowl,
Making sure to slurp his soup
With each handful.
My mouse
Brushes his teeth promptly the next morning,
Making sure to go quickly
Not wanting to miss cartoons.
My mouse
Goes to bed exactly one hour after I read him a story,
Keeping all his lights on
Not wanting to take any chances with the boogie cat.
My mouse
May not be a perfect mouse,
But in the end,
He is my mouse.