On February 20 of this year, I posted an entry about the Scrub Daddy Sponge my sister put in my Xmas stocking.

(Click first photo and arrows to enlarge and see commentary under each photo, then click on X at upper left to return and read the poem.)  Note:  Wordpress seems to be having some problems. If the process just suggested doesn’t work, hovering over each photo will let you see the captions.)

This is what Scrub Daddy looked like in his prime.

He fit perfectly into my Axion container.

Five weeks later, however, this is what Scrub Daddy looks like:

The Demise of Scrub Daddy

Scrub Daddy, Scrub Daddy, where you gone?
There in pieces, so limp and wan,
you hardly seem the selfsame sponge
meant to scour and expunge
clinging morsels of cooked-on rice
when I swipe once and maybe twice.

Yet after only thirty days,
I must amend my former praise,
for after one-too-many rubbings,
you haven’t very many scrubbings
left in you. You’ve lost your heart,
unstiffed your starch, fallen apart!

Scrub Daddy, Scrub Daddy, I won’t buy
another cut-out scrub sponge guy.
I’ll make do with a simple square
that’s lacking mouth and eyes and hair.
Though you’d win any cuteness casting,
I’ll choose a sponge that’s longer lasting!

Now, if you want to know the full story of Scrub Daddy, read my earlier posting about him Here.

And, if you want to know the final outcome of this story, read this:

https://judydykstrabrown.com/2016/06/14/scrub-daddy-goes-on-fiesta/

and, since this post follows in the footsteps of an earlier one, I’m posting it in Footsteps as well.