“I’m blue.” Goose said, as he climbed out of bed.
Of course, he wasn’t. He was gray, like the day.
He was only blue on the inside of his head,
but some days, that’s enough.
He pulled on a robe and tied the sash tight.
For breakfast, in the fridge, there was only a smidge
of milk left. He would have to go out, despite
his mood which was foul.
“Oh, yuck!” He exclaimed, as the rain began to pour.
He hunched his head and would have run, not for fun,
but for cover, but he needed to get to the store.
Milk is important.
With his head hunched down, Goose couldn’t see a thing
so he walked right into Dog, and got him sog-
-gy, which just figured. It was the kind of day that can bring
out the bad sort of luck.
“My! You’re all wet!” Dog observed of Goose,
rather obviously Goose thought. But, Dog, a swell fella, held his umbrella
over Goose while they walked. Watching his chum, Dog began to deduce
the sort of day Goose was having.
They walked to the store and turned to head back
before Goose thought to ask why Dog had been out in the wet. “Don’t fret,”
said Dog, “but I haven’t had breakfast. I found that I lack-
-ed the necessary ingredients.
Goose felt rather bad. Here he had been feeling sorry and blue,
and Dog had been with him in the cold, but Dog, good as gold,
hadn’t complained. “Come on in,” said Goose, “I have enough for two,
and, I’d love to have the company.”
And, of course, Dog accepted, he was hungry, and understood
that when you’re blue in the head it’s better to be with a friend, who’ll lend
you a smile when you’re out of your own. Besides he would
rather stay, as he’d woken up feeling rather blue himself.
My friend, Chris, suggested that I should write and illustrate children’s books. I think I’ll see if I can put together some illustrations for this. I wrote it over the course of about an hour after I put Fiona to bed. Constructive criticism welcomed!