Pregnancy and Poetry

I found the marker for our Wipe-Off board.  This brings great joy to my soul, so I decided to work on a little poetry for Steve.  Clara came over and I eagerly said, "Looky, Clara, I wrote a haiku!"  She walked over to the fridge and read it:

There once was a fellow called Tickle

Whose wife was in quite a pickle

His fingers got frisky

She was in a tisk-y

And nothing could be heard but a Giggle

(Or a Gickle, depending on how much of a Stickle you are at rhyming.) 

"Pretty funny, huh?" I said.
Clara looked at me.  "Yeah, but that's not a haiku.  That's a limerick."

Yes, I know the difference between a haiku and a limerick.  Yes, I know how to write both of them.  It pretty much confirmed that I have lost my marbles completely.  Pregnancy brain strikes again.

But here's a real haiku, just to prove that I can do it:

Steve tickles his wife
Throws her on the bed with glee
Fun despite the shrieks

Ha.  There you go.