Rampant Silliness

Ben participated in a fairly good sized local judo tournament on Saturday. He had four matches and won all of them. One by a hair, two by pin and one by a resounding throw. The cry of ippon! was lound and long.

On the way there, we ate pocky sticks.

I observed that if we were at a hockey game, it would be hockey pocky.

Wendy pointed out that there might be a fight: knocky hockey pocky.

Ben suggested they would be wearing socks: socky knocky hockey pocky.

I thought they could be playing in the North End, near the Charles River Locks: locky socky knocky hockey pocky.

Wendy said: Only if they're lucky. Lucky locky socky knocky hockey pocky.

They could be followed there, said Ben. Stalky lucky locky socky knocky hockey pocky.

Only if they went near the North End Docks, said Wendy. Docky stalky lucky locky socky knocky hockey pocky.

They could be Democrats, said Ben. Donkey docky stalky lucky locky socky knocky hockey pocky.

I hope they're confident, I said. Cocky donkey docky stalky lucky locky socky knocky hockey pocky.

I bet they're suprised they're playing in the North End, said Wendy. Shockey cocky donkey docky stalky lucky locky socky knocky hockey pocky.

At this point I knew it was going to be a long drive.

Doctor Seuss would be so proud.