When I was younger I read the book “Where the Sidewalk Ends” from cover to cover.
Do you remember that book?
I think my parents rolled their eyes when I read the poem about Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout who would not take the garbage out.
But I didn’t care.
Shel Silverstein was my hero.
He was funny and irreverent and made eating a whale and collecting junk and a crocodile toothache into poems that danced off the pages of a book.