Every child in our family memorizes this delightful poem—a tradition begun by my mother-in-law when my husband was a boy. It comes in very handy at the dinner table.
The Goops they lick their fingers,
And the Goops they lick their knives;
They spill their broth on the tablecloth–
Oh, they lead disgusting lives!
The Goops they talk while eating,
And loud and fast they chew;
And that is why I’m glad that I
Am not a Goop–are you?
~ Gelett Burgess, Goops and How to Be Them, 1900