“Mama?” Jane holds a book in her hand. “Will you read the llama poem?”
“Sure, sweetie.” I shove back my plate to clear a space on the table. She sets the book down, climbs into my lap, and opens the book to the llama poem page.
“The Llama Who Had No Pajama,” I read the title. “By Mary Ann Hoberman.” Then I launch into the poem.
The llama who had no pajama
Was troubled and terribly sad
When it became known that he had outgrown
Every pair of pajamas he had.
The poem continues, picking up speed as the llama and his mama look in “each nook and each cranny / each hillock and mound” and not a pair of pajamas do they find in the whole wide wumberly world. By this time, they’re so exhausted from their search, the little llama falls asleep sans pajamas, only to wake up in the morning and realize…
Head on over to Tweetspeak to find out what the little llama realizes…and what I realized, too.
