The continuing exploits of Mr. Finnegan as he conquers the world with his cuteness.

I am a man of many hats. I am a gentleman of leisure, yet a gad-about-town. A world-weary traveler, but also a babe in toyland. But tho’ I wear so many hats in a day’s transit, there are some hats best not donned.

A hat too far!

This travesty of haberdashery was foisted upon me by some well-meaning ladies who accosted me this weekend last during my sojourn to the ocean. T’was in vain that they inveigled me to don such an improper cranial ornamentation. Not to don, but to doff! The next head cozy was more to my liking.

Where be gold?

I cannot say the how of it, but upon donning this hat I was overtaken by a powerful desire to take to the seas in search of adventure. I dare say but that if I had kept this hat on top of my head I might now be a pirate waylaying the unwary. My first act of piracy would be to chop off the head of anyone wearing the blue sequined hat from before!

After the fashion show of hats and such I went in search of solitude. On my lonely journey, far from the maddening crowd, I caught the glimpse of a handsome young man of scarcely my own age. I ran to greet him, embracing him as a brother.

Where have you been all of my life?

It was only later that I learned that he was only my reflection. I should have known they could never make two of anything so cute. Alas!

These were but some of the adventures I had this weekend past with Mother, Rebecca, Sara, and Jenn at the beach. Such a weekend it was, just I and three lovely ladies to entertain as only I know how. Did they ever stand a chance?

Thus I do entreat you, please you to entertain, an idea I press upon you, carrots mashed or strained.

Carrots I implore you, put them in my mouth, if a spoon should come in with them, I’ll eat it – have no doubt!

The spoon got too close to Carrot Face

This poem I haver writ, to tell you of my love, of sloppy messy carrots, in my mouth I beg you shove.

On my face I will display them, a badge of honor dear, and stew them in my belly, orange soup – nutritious cheer.

Carrots? Where have you gone?

Poems I have written, odes to carrots true, but can scarce suffice, to give my carrot’s due.

Penned this day of our Lord, All Carrot’s Hallo’d Eve, 2010.

Finnegan Wilde Kincaid