An owl and a wheel were traveling quietly by night,
minding their own business,
when along came a jay,
out of the midnight blue,
tsk-tsk-tsking them for still living in their mother’s basement.
The jay, with a loud yawn, said,
“Don’t you know the early bird gets the worm
and the squeaky wheel gets the grease?”
And the owl,
with a ruffle of his feathers,
“Will you, please, Mr. Jay,
and do not come back another day?”
“I’m either right or I’m right,” the jay said
with a flip of his flapper,
laughing and flying away.
“Rather handsome fellow,” the wheel finally spoke,
and the owl,
wise as the wheel was round,
kept thinking about what the Jay had said,
and made a somewhat indecent proposal.
“Why not, Wheel, my well-spokin friend,
let’s give it a try.
It can’t be any worse than green eggs and ham.
I’ll be early, and you be squeaky.”
“But I’m an introvert,” the wheel said,
and the owl went on to say,
“Try it for a day and I daresay,
a worm sounds good right now.”
“If you say so,” said the wheel,
and so they both decided they would try out
how the other halves lived.
The next morning,
after having sat up all night,
the wheel having sat out in the rain to get rusty,
the owl taking the red-eye,
leaving him red-eyed,
were ready to roll and eat.
The wheel was cranky,
causing a little Derrick spilled fish oil on him,
making him slippery,
leaving him smelling a bit kippery.
The owl, feeling less than pert,
managed to catch a worm,
only to spit it out,
for it tasted like dirt.
And from then on,
the owl and the wheel went back to being their best selves,
their lives all the sweeter for knowing the difference.