|My very sneaky schnauzer, Ella, stealing pizza. Yes, she's on the counter!|
The Look of Shame
Well, I did it.
I mean, who can blame me?
It wasn't my fault, really.
Okay, so maybe I was a teeny tiny bit responsible.
I guess I should tell you what IT is...
I entered another challenge.
I know, I know! I pledged in my last post not to do that.
But how could I resist an international, slam-dunk kid's poetry tournament like
You understand now, don't you?
Of course, there's no guarantee I'll even make it to the top 64 contender's bracket. (I'm not sure if that's proper basketball terminology, but it sounds March-Madness-y, doesn't it?)
To be selected as an authlete, I have to survive the first poetic challenge: Write 2-8 lines explaining why you'll be the winner.
I decided to go all double-dactyl-y, in honor of the word basketball, (and to show off my poetic prowess, of course). So without further ado, here is my entry piece:
YOU want to join me in the Madness now, don't you?
Come on. Get off the bench, throw on that stinky, old jersey and flex those dribbling fingers...you have work to do!