Write a four line poem that has something to do with: furniture.
Took the family up to Oliver this morning to check out a flea market and a couple of secondhand shops, hoping to pick up a used dinner table or dresser to replace the ones we have here. Found nothing useful, but Max ended up with a $2 maraca and a free toy guitar because of course he did.
It's a pink electronic Barbie guitar that I'm not convinced is working as intended. The batteries were dead when we got it and we'd intended to leave it that way. But then we left him with his grandparents this evening while we went out for dinner and he wanted to take it with him. I can imagine that a few "Not working, it's broken" observations later and fresh batteries were on their way in.
I'll admit that it's not as annoying as I expected it to be. And Max loves it, so it might stick around for a little while before we donate it to another toddler to mess around with.
Too small and too unsteady,
It is well past its time to go;
I meant the dinner table...
It applies to Grandma too, though