Little Ricky, apparently is accident prone,
Mom says; being around him- is like a war zone,
Is it his fault, the puck went through the kitchen windows?
He did not mean for the chair to land on Uncle Jerry toes,
He never wanted to chase the smudgy dog, through the den,
Or squeeze all the ink on the carpet, from Dads fountain pen
He meant well – when he put the avocado mush on Moms toast,
To see Mommy turn white, as if she saw a ghost,
How could he know that the avocado will go so far?
And turn into something called wasabi, in a sushi bar