I made an oatmeal omelet once, <br />especially for my kids. <br />My children thought I was a dunce; <br />they thought I'd flipped my lid. <br /> <br />It was nutritious, it was filling, <br />of that there was no doubt, <br />but to them it was not thrilling; <br />they wanted me to throw it out. <br /> <br />I thought it was great; it was keen, <br />a simply marvelous stuff, <br />but to them looked rubbery and green; <br />they couldn't complain enough. <br /> <br />The taste was fine, I told them then, <br />but they didn't realize <br />the color didn't matter when <br />you simply closed your eyes! <br /> <br />Plead as I might, my stubborn kids <br />would not give it a taste. <br />I ate my share, I really did <br />and the rest just went to waste.<br /><br />Kim Barney<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/oatmeal-omelet/
