Maggie Tells a Whopper

by Cynthia Williford

It started out quite simply.
It was a glorious summer day.
Miss Maggie McGee grabbed her bat and glove
and went off to the park to play.
But she got home late for dinner
and when her mother asked her why,
Maggie did what some kids do
and told a big, fat, whopping lie.

It was a beaut.

"You see," she told her mother,
"the game was tied at 3 to 3,
when all of a sudden we were attacked
by a giant bumble bee.
It swooped right down upon us,
as big as a house it was.
All we could hear was the flap, flap of its wings
and a deafening buzz, buzz, buzz.

The bee started to come right at me.
Everyone started to shout!
So I grabbed a bat and whacked that bee
and knocked it completely out.
Of course, then we had to finish the game,
which we won 16 to 3.
Aren't you proud of me, Mother?"
asked a smiling Miss McGee.

"I certainly am," said her mother.

"I'll notify the papers
to tell them what you've done.
They'll want to write your story
and take your picture -- think what fun!
The TV calls are next in line
so they can put you on the news.
They'll send out their reporters
with their cameras and their crews.

Wherever you go, people will shout
‘Hurrah!’ and ‘Hip, Hip, Hooray!’

They'll want to honor you, my dear,
with your very own special day.
The mayor will want to meet you.
The Chief of Police will shake your hand.
The city will hold a big parade
with floats and a marching band.”

Maggie gulped.

"Then off you'll go," her mother said,
“to Washington, D.C.,
so the President of the United States
can applaud your bravery.
The whole world will talk about you,
how the mighty Mags McGee
was fearless when she grabbed her bat
and whacked that giant bumble bee!"

Maggie felt quite queasy.
She turned a sickly gray.
"Mother," she said in a strangled voice,
“let's not get carried away.
It might have been...
I mean that when...
Oh, gee, it's such a mess.
I guess I just...
I mean I must...
It's time that I confess."

So she did.

Mags performed hard labor
with a dish rag and a broom,
then her mom did what some moms do
and sent her to her room.
As Maggie lay in bed that night,
she knew one thing with certainty.
If she's ever late for dinner again,
she won't blame it on a bee.

© 2004

The fantasy world of children's writer and poet, Cynthia Williford

Maggie Tells a Whopper