Calvin and Hobbes by Bill Watterson for October 03, 2022

Extra points for spelling hors d’oeuvre correctly.

What is good poetry?…..

Anything to avoid going to school.

Does anyone know why C&H skipped Sunday?

as if Calvin (or Bill Watterson for that matter) could be the next Shel Silverstein

Welcome back, Calvin, after yesterday break.

Bwahahahahaha!

Mom puts up with Calvin. Of course she has the nerve.

A regular opus

Oh, she’d still love you—in a nice chowder!!

If Calvin were a clam, then his mom would be a clam … who, while buried in the sand, had released eggs into the ocean to be fertilized by sperm released by a male, also buried in the sand. If all goes well, that fertilized egg would then hopefully grow into Calvin clam, who would never know which pair of buried clams were his parents. Had clams been blessed with human intelligence, Mom and Dad clams would probably be glad they never met Calvin clam.

Clams got poetry! Oops! Sorry, wrong cartoon……..

What happened to Sunday’s color strip?

I never found sundays Calvin strip, 10/2?

Guess he chose clam because finding rhymes for oyster were too hard.

See how good you can be if you applied yourself, Calvin?

I’m just surprised that he could spell hors d’oeuvre!

After reading that I instinctively reached for the lemon juice, if I shuddered so should he!

Me too, Calvin.

You want poetry, you got it!

Rose are red, Violets are purple, your kisses are sweeter, than Maple syrple.

(Shameless plagiarism of Roger miller’s work.)

https://www.karaoke-lyrics.net/lyrics/roger-miller/dang-me-609893

Moms always love their kids, even though some are hard- shelled.

I really hope that’s not part of his homework assignment. Otherwise, I foresee a trip to the school psychology office.

I learned long ago that Mom will always love me, but she doesn’t always want me around.

Yes, she would.

Dr. Pritchert’s dissertation on poetry from the Dead Poet’s Society.

If you turned into a computer, you could be a binary quandary!

Grimy? Slippery? Slimy? Sounds to me like a lateral move.

I only wrote one good poem. After a bad breakup, I woke up with a poem in my mouth. When you wake up with a poem in your mouth, all you can do is spit it out and clean it up.

Then get on with your life.

For those who think Cal is a moron, how many kids his age can use the word “Quandary” and spell it. Hell, I couldn’t spell it

That is a pretty good poem. I’m not sure how I like how he changes from ABAB in the first stanza to AABB in the second, but is ability to do so is still impressive.

As far as content goes, she said she loves him just the way he is (which rarely seems to come through in the strip but that’s neither here nor there) so there’s no reason to assume that covers loving him if he were other than he is.

What 6-year-old kid knows how to spell “hors d’oeuvres,” let alone how to pronounce it?

Yes your mom would still love you, especially when you finally “clam up”.

Yes Calvin, mom would still love you, they’re funny that way.

Yes, but this is (good?) doggerel. What kind of bumps does THAT give?

Here we see Calvin getting in touch with his inner William Butter Yeast…or maybe Ezra Poundcake…or perhaps Robert Frostbite…or probably Carl Sandbag!

Mom said she loved him the way he is (“now” implied). She didn’t say she’d love him no matter what other animal he turned into.

Calvin is no Andrew Dice Clay…..OOOOHHHHH!!!Young folks google his nursery rhymes!

It makes me vomit.

I missed C & H yesterday so much!

Isn’t there something about Nantucket? Or is that a limerick?

For a six-year-old, it’s not bad.

Aaaannnd, what makes you think you’re not? Gray and grimey, slippery and slimey, that is. From what I’ve seen of you….

If he wants good poultry, he should try Col. Sanders, though I hear Popeye’s is giving him a run for his money.

Calvin has a certain talent for the Macabre…

How do you think you looked when you were born?

Calvin’s poetry is genius!

The genius is on his desk producing perplexing poetry and giving us vocabulary jitters.

She’s seen him like that plenty of times. She just throws him in the bathtub.

Seriously, it’s not bad. It’s funny! Jack Prelutsky style poetry.