Last night before supper, Mom said
It was time I learned how to cook.
I screamed and I threw quite a fit
When she gave me her recipe book.

I thought I would make cooking fun
And the thought brought a great big grin.
I would cook a meal so awful
That they’d never ask me again.

I would cook up a meal so gross
It would make my brother throw up.
It would make Mom and Dad turn green
And all their stomachs to blow up.

I emptied the frigerator
And a lot of the pantry too.
I checked Mom’s rack of food color
For my favorite shade of blue.

I took the chicken Mom gave me
And rolled it in chocolate powder.
Then I covered it with a can
Of Captain Jack’s red hot clam chowder.

Then lots of hot sauce and sugar
And blue dye for just the right shade.
I poured the mess in a cook pan
And sprinkled on dry lemonade.

I put it in Mama’s new range
And set it at three sixty five.
I knew that no one could eat it
With hope of remaining alive.

I gave each one a big helping
And tried to sneak out the back door.
But Dad said to bring the stuff back
‘Cause everyone wanted some more!