|No Fun for Mr. Fritz|
Pauline and Peter begged their dad,
“Oh please, you have to let us go!
It’s kids around the neighborhood
And all the neighbor dads you know!”
“I’m not the camping type at all.
Your mother did this kind of thing.
I much prefer a hotel room
And wouldn’t know what stuff to bring.”
“We’ll help in every way we can.
You only have to come along.
We’ll pitch the tent; we’ll cook the food.”
The children asked, “What could go wrong?””
Though Mr. Fritz could make a list
Of what could make this trip a bust
To please his kids he’d have to go
And in their skills he’d put his trust.
At first the outing went okay.
The tent went up without a hitch.
The campers then went on a hike
Where Mr. Fritz fell in a ditch.
“I’ll be okay,” he told the group.
“I think I only jammed my knee.
The rest of you continue on,
No changing plans because of me!”
You readers who have camped before
Know no one ought to walk alone,
But grudgingly the group hiked on
While Mr. Fritz limped on his own.
He’d barely made it back to camp,
(His knee looked like a bowling ball),
When bears approached the camping site
The biggest one near six feet tall.
Now Mr. Fritz could not have run,
Nor did he know what he should do.
He stood as still as if a tree
And hoped the bears were passing through.
The fathers who were pros at this
Had wrapped the food up nice and tight,
So unfulfilled, the bears moved on
To find a more abundant site.
With nerves now shot and needing rest
A nap seemed like the safest bet,
So Mr. Fritz crept in the tent
To see what comfort he could get.
He would have fallen fast asleep,
Despite the knee and six-foot bear,
But just as he was dozing off
His mattress started losing air.
So by the time the group returned
He said to them while in his car,
“Pauline and Pete, it’s time to go.
The hotel room is not too far.”