It can't be time to take a bath.
I took one just last week.
I'm sure the spots you think are grime
are freckles on my cheek.
I'm just as clean as clean can be.
You won't find any dirt.
I rubbed my mouth clean with my hands,
then wiped them on my shirt.
My feet were muddy yesterday,
but that's not longer true.
I walked home barefoot in the rain,
so now they're spotless, too.
There was some gunk behind my ears—
a funny shade of gray.
Don't worry, though, 'cause it's all gone.
The cat licked it away.
And so you see, there is no need
to point me toward the tub.
It's just a waste of water.
I've got nothing left to scrub!
Text © A. Maria Plover reprinted from Rolling in the Aisles, published by Meadowbrook Press. Illustration © Stephen Carpenter. Any copying or use of this poem or illustration without consent is unlawful.
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