“The Story of Baby Gilda“
(Gilda a smarty pants child)
~
“Gilda, dear, did you fart?
On my, that wasn’t very smart?”
Why, Mom, isn’t a fart part of a baby’s life?
At least I didn’t have to cut it with a knife.
~
“What do you mean by that?”
Well, I certainly wasn’t buttering the cat!
See, if I did number two, what would you have to do?
For me, I would have to sit on my potty, pooping away.
Otherwise, I may have to sit there all day.
~
Until my pee and poo drain.
So, Mom wouldn’t complain.
Now what would she rather have me do?
Fart or wait on this pot for my poo?
~
For me, the answer is simple; I’d rather fart.
Then to see my poo, looking like a dart.
A fart flies away; poop will sit and stay.
Until Mom goes and flushes it away.
~
I prefer being clean much better;
Oh no, I’m peeing, and feeling wetter.
I better get to my potty, quick!
Mom! My peeper let go; it must be sick!
~
It’s squirting me—without warning;
This is too early in the morning.
Now, Mom will be mad that I’m all wet.
She’ll have to change me, wanna bet?
~
I’m wearing a super-absorbent die-pee;
It’s supposed to hold all my wee-wee.
I guess I peed too much; I can’t win them all;
Only some, but then Mom, gets to have a ball.
~
She says, we’re allowed to pee, fart and poo,
And make the room stinky too!
Oh, what fun!
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