sleepy head

This is a story my mother told. When we were little, my sister and I lived with our parents in a small house near Ithaca, NY. We each had a bedroom downstairs. Our parents had their bedroom upstairs. We were not allowed up there, because the stairwell came to the middle of a hall and there was no railing at all. They were afraid that we would fall down.

I am three years older. I’m not sure I was always a good sister.

One weekend morning, my parents were lying in bed in their room, quite early. Suddenly a very round three year old face popped up at the end of the bed, with a wicked gleam, and spoke:

“Boodie with a yellow bill
hopped upon my windowsill
cocked his shining eye and said
“Ain’t you shamed, you sleepy head?”

And then my sister raced out of the room and down the stairs.

My mother said that when they got over their stunned laughter, they came downstairs to talk to us. I had coached my sister until she could recite perfectly, aside from the missing r. I think we got a mild scolding about the safety of the stairs, but since they were still laughing, I don’t think we took it seriously.

previously published on, a slightly different version

5 thoughts on “sleepy head

  1. Oh dear! You naughty girls!
    Not as bad as I was though.
    You’ll need to read “My friend Billy” in Titbits/Poetry to find out why.

    • drkottaway says:

      …I have just scratched the surface…

      • I think there could be a lot in my Titbits section that you’d like. They are all only a few seconds long [to read] and are guaranteed to make you COL. (Chuckle Out Loud).
        I am enjoying exploring your blog too.

        • drkottaway says:

          Thank you. My mother was brilliant at short little stories that would make people laugh….

        • drkottaway says:

          ….though often her stories changed from one telling to the next…..but I believe this one…..

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