Just look at you. Where have you been?
And don’t give me that silly grin.
How can you get so dirty quick?—
Whatever dirt you touch must stick.
My goodness, you are such a sight,
They wouldn’t know that you were white.
Okay, upstairs, get in the tub.
I’m sure, this time, you’ll have to scrub.
And that means you wash everything,
Including, afterwards, the ring.
Sound familiar? Of course, it does—
It takes you back to what once was.
If you recall, in those days, dirt
Was something you could not avert.
You never thought of it as bad—
What you’d be doing was always glad.
You should recall, as recall goes,
How dirt would grow between your toes.
But you’ll recall a special rub—
You hated rings around the tub!
© Richard Williams