she was horrid

My mom read us poetry sometimes instead stories. And she was into sing-song-y riddles. She got hold of a book with funny poems about manners that she really loved. To tell the truth, us kids didn't love the poems about manners but my mom sure did.

There was one poem that went like this:

I eat my peas with honey
I've done it all my life
It makes the peas taste funny
But it keeps them on my knife

That one made us giggle. Why wouldn't someone eat their peas with a fork? or even a spoon?  Why a knife?

And then my mom had little diddies that got from gosh knows where. Here is one I despised. She only said this one to me. I was the only girl in the family, with four brothers, until I was fourteen. By the time my baby sister came along,mom had stopped her kiddie poetry. I don't think she ever said this one to my sister:

There was a little girl
Who had a little girl
Right in the middle of her forehead
And when she was good
She was very very good
And when she was bad
She was horrid

I already heard my mom telling me I was horrid when she said that one.

And I am feeling horrid right now.