A Crocadilly Silly Day
© January 21, 2010
Today was a crocadilly silly day.
What is a crocadilly silly day, you ask?
Well, I’ll tell you. Just listen to this story.
It all started when I woke up in bed.
I blinked at the ceiling and said,
“I think a pet crocodile today would be fun.”
So I went to the computer and printed out one.
I snuck back to my room and tucked him into my bed,
so that when Mom came to wake me, she’d find him instead.
She pulled back the covers and stared with a funny look on her face,
surprised to find a crocodile instead in my place.
Aghast, she picked him up by the tail,
and put him in an old ice cream pail.
She put my crocodile out the front door.
And so I went and printed off two more.
With two crocodiles I wondered what to do,
and then put one each into Dad’s shoe.
Dad put on his shoe and let out a big “Yelp!”
He hopped about shouting for help.
Mom came to see and she knew just what to do.
She took his shoes and pulled out crocodiles one and two.
She put those crocks in and old shoe box,
and set them outside, tied shut with a pair of Dad’s long socks.
I crossed my arms and shook my head,
I’d have to find another place to keep my crocodiles instead.
Keeping a pet crocodile was becoming a big chore.
I went to the computer and printed off four more.
When my dog saw the crocodiles it was quite a sight.
Poor Rover thought crocodiles in the house just weren’t right.
The four crocodiles chased my poor dog around the kitchen,
and right out the door and through Mom’s freshly hung linen.
With Rover and those four crocks running through hill and dale,
another two in a box and one in an old ice cream pail,
I sighed and went back to the computer chair,
and printed off eight more crocodiles as I sat there.
Those crocodiles took off running through the house,
and one of them ate my big tyrannosaurus mouse.
They chomped on shoes, spilled plants, baubles, and books.
Two of them played chess while snacking on pawns and rooks.
“What happened to my house?” my Mother cried.
I shoed those crocodiles and told them, “Quick, go and hide.”
They scampered to hide in closets, cupboards, and shelves.
But they left a trail of mess behind themselves.
Dad stood with hands on hips as he shook his head at me.
I don’t think he appreciated all the crocodile insanity.
Carefully he picked up each crocodile by its nose,
and put it out by the garden hose.
I heard a noise from where the printer should have been,
and found more crocodiles counting sixteen.
Oh no, this certainly would not do!
Out of the printer was coming another thirty-two!
I had to get them out of the house!
This was worse than that time when I tried to keep a pet mouse!
I loaded them all onto my electric train,
and set them off chugging outside, whistle blowing through the rain.
I ran back to make sure the computer printed no more,
but I found more crocodiles – another sixty-four!
They chased me and nipped at my heels and my toes.
One of them even bit my on my nose!
Hundreds of crocodiles were printing now,
I had to stop it but didn’t know how.
The house was filling to the roof beams and rafters.
Two of them eyed me and one said, “Wanna go halfers?”
I ran through the house as fast as I could go,
right past three crocs calling themselves Larry, Curly, and Moe.
Crocs sat on the table and ate from the chairs.
They played red riding hood and the three hungry bears.
I ran into the backyard and stopped in my tracks,
for there was a door marked “crocodile snacks”.
I called the crocodiles to all come and see,
and wouldn’t you know it, through that door they all followed me.
I ran back out the door and slammed it tight,
locking all those crocodiles out of sight.
I learned something that day, you can bet.
A crocodile does not make a good pet.