Every day is a cup party at my house. I have six children in the summer, and they use, on average, 37 cups a day. Each. It’s like Oprah shows up every morning shouting, “You get a cup! You get a cup! Aaaaaaand you get a cup! Everybody gets a cup! All the cups!” I’m beginning to think that the Dr. Seuss book One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish is really about a mom counting used cups. Tell me what you think?
One cup
Two cup
Red cup
Blue cup.
Black cup
Blue cup
Old cup
New cup.
These three cups have little stars.
These six cups have little cars.
Say! What a freaking lot
Of cups there are.
Yes. Three are red. And six are blue.
One is old. And eight are new.
Mom is mad.
Are you glad?
Using all the cups is very, very bad.
Why are we talking
About mad and glad and sad?
I sure do know
And so does Dad.
Some are short.
And some are tall.
The tall one holds
An old meatball.
From there to here, from here to there,
These freaking cups
Are everywhere.
Here are some
Filled with scum.
It’s not fun
To clean them, son.
Ugh! Oh boy!
Ugh! Oh my!
“What a lot
Of freaking cups!” I cry.
Where do they come from? I think I know.
Six kids using six cups a day is a total you-know-what show!
I see them drink
From a cup
I see them think,
“One cup’s not much.”
Put down low
Or put up high,
Not one cup
Reeks of grime.
Don’t ask me why
They’re only used one time.
Ugh!
Look at those cups!
Six, seven, eight!
So many cups
I do hate!