By Kenn Nesbitt
I cloned myself on Friday night.
By Saturday at three
my clone had made another clone.
They both looked just like me.
They walked like me and talked like me.
They acted like me too.
They wore my clothes and used my stuff
and did the things I do.
But worst of all they made more clones
who then made even more,
and soon my house was overrun
and I was getting sore.
They wouldn't do my homework,
clean my room, or make my bed.
They wouldn't wash the dishes,
or do anything I said.
Instead they sat and watched TV
and played computer games.
They ate up all my favorite snacks
and called each other names.
And now they like to stay up late
and keep me wide awake.
My life is wrecked, but still I hope
you'll learn from my mistake.
Don't ever try to clone yourself.
But, if you ever do,
you'd better hope your clones are not
exactly just like you.
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We spent most of Sunday in Hanover visiting Paul's parents, who were in good moods despite the rain -- making steady progress, getting out more to see things locally. Adam came with us, and Daniel was at home in Seattle, so we all Skyped with him and they got to see him, too. We picked up pizza on the way there, and we also stopped at Hanover Shoe Farms to see the foals:
We saw some of the Red Sox game before we left to drive home in the rain, where we arrived to a crock pot full of stout and chicken stew. Then Christine came over and after a lengthy discussion about what she had never seen, what Adam had never seen, and what we were all in the mood for, we watched The Island, for which I have great affection despite it being mediocre sci-fi and Michael Bay!
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