There once was a Little Green Machine,
Whose only job was to clean
All the crap in my life
Causing me great strife,
Leaving behind nothing but a fantastic sheen.
You see, Alex – my son #1
Is only 8; he seems to eat just for fun.
So much one day, in fact
An off switch he lacked.
And back out of him the food and drink did run.
Son Nick, on the other hand
Of his good health, he lost all command.
He came down with the flu –
It’s Bissell to the rescue!
Cuz poor Nick was one pukin’ little man.
(yeah, yeah – not an exact rhyme. This isn’t Pulitzer quality poetry here, people)
The dog – she’s a shifty breed.
Upon her (expensive) lambs wool crate liner she peed;
And then came the runs.
Jesus! Who gave her Funyons?
For the dog – a more bland diet, we all agreed.
So that is why I sing praises, you see
Of my Little Green Machine’s capability.
A clean up quickie —
No matter how sticky —
Be it spill, puke, dog barf or pee.