Scamp

I still have no clue why my son, Roy, waited until Sunday evening, after all the libraries were closed, to tell me that he had to recite a poem at school Monday morning.I groused about his timing. Groused quite a bit, actually. Then, I wrote a poem about a little boy who had to recite a poem at school...and I drilled my Scamp on it the rest of the evening. He got an A for the assignment.