Parents
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My name is Mitch MacLeod. On the first day of school I can tell that it's going to be a bad year. As soon as I walk into the classroom Philip points at me and yells, "Hey, Midget-brain, the kindergarten is down the hall." Everyone looks, naturally, including any new kids I might have had a chance with. Chevy chips in, "Here, little boy, I'll take you to Mrs. Granoff." She holds out her hand. You'd never know that over the summer we were practically friends. She totally towers over me, but I ignore her.
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Slimy, stinky, stuffed with dread—
these poems will scare kids out of bed.
And hey, kids! You’ll fi nd poems for you
to wake up sleepy grown-ups too!
Elves, gross goo—oops!—stuff that breaks—
you'll fi nd it all in SHAKE-AWAKES!
