Muddles

Splashing-sploshing the mud in puddles
I will name what I made, muddles.

Run and jump, my feet go splishy.
Bare toes feel good, squashy-squishy.

Uh oh, muddles frickled my new pants!
I wiped it worse, 'cause it’s on my hands!

Dripsy-dropsy EVERY place!
It’s in my hair! It’s on my face!

It’s on my shirt, and there, and THERE!
Muddles got me everywhere!

Muddles bubbles in my smell.
Is it in BOTH holes? I just can’t tell,

and every twirl I go, it goes!
Ewww, here comes Mommy with the hose.

Mommy said just LOOK at me!
I can’t, cause muddles got in my see,

but there isn’t muddles in my ears
and Mommy’s yells fill up my hears!

Now dripples are raining down, oh well,
it’s raining muddles off my smell.

My poor muddles. Now they’re moosh.
I slippered and sat right in the goosh.

Hose raining muddles off my thumb,
raining muddles from on my bum,

now there’s NOwhere muddles stayed
cause the dripples made it go away.

I can’t play now, not here OR there
cause I’m in a corner on a chair

and Mommy’s washing ALL my clothes.
She said, "Why MUDDLES?  I’ll NEVER know!"

Would I still have so many troubles
if I named it something else, not muddles?