CHICKEN SOUP WITH RICE - FROM NY

Boogie's card from Beng

Finally, my boys' Christmas gift from their Lola Becca and their Tita Beng from Albany, New York came this morning. Lukie's high temp of 39.2°C(even if you give him paracetamol every four hours)for the passed two days had cooled down while opening the package. He has been sick with Influenza. We hope he is fine now, no more fever as of lunch time and there he is fast asleep as I am writing this.

Twice did my first born read the book Chicken Soup with Rice by Maurice Sendak that he got from the pack. He requested chicken soup for dinner that I was not able to do because fish was ready to be served. I just made him an instant soup that will go with his rice and fish.

People from Baguio will know what I am thinking if they'll read this book. Here it is, read on. Have a share of what me and my son read before he dozed off. In January it’s so nice, while slipping on the sliding ice,
To sip hot chicken soup with rice.
Slipping once, sipping twice, sipping chicken soup with rice.

In February it will be my snowman’s anniversary,
With cake for him and soup for me!
Happy once, happy twice, happy chicken soup with rice.

In March the wind blows down the door and spill my soup upon the floor.
It laps it up and roars for more.
Blowing once, blowing twice, blowing chicken soup with rice.

In April I will go away, to far-off Spain or old Bombay,
And dream about hot soup all day.
Oh my once, oh my twice, oh my chicken soup with rice.

In May I truly think it best to be a robin lightly dressed,
Concocting soup inside my nest.
Mix it once, mix it twice, mix that chicken soup with rice.

In June I saw a charming group of roses all begin to droop.
I pepped them up with chicken soup!
Sprinkle once, sprinkle twice, sprinkle chicken soup with rice.

In July I’ll take a peep into the cool and fishy deep,
Where chicken soup is selling cheap,
Selling once, selling twice, selling chicken soup with rice.

In August it will be so hot, I will become a cooking pot.
Cooking soup of course. Why not?
Cooking once, cooking twice, cooking chicken soup with rice.

In September for a while, I will ride a crocodile
Down the chicken soupy Nile.
Paddle once, paddle twice, paddle chicken soup with rice

In October I’ll host to witches, goblins, and a ghost.
I’ll serve them chicken soup on toast.
Whoopy once, whoopy twice, whoopy chicken soup with rice.

In November’s gusty gale I will flop my flippy tail
And spout hot soup. I’ll be a whale!
Spouting once, spouting twice, spouting chicken soup with rice.

I

n December I will be a baubled, baubled Christmas tree
With soup bowls draped all over me.
Merry once, merry twice, merry chicken soup with rice