A gingerbread house is cute but unsafe.
It’s not very comfy, I’m sorry to say.
There’s not enough space except for a toe,
And who can rely on gingerbread dough?
It seems to be sturdy but looks can deceive.
A downpour will cause it to leak like a sieve,
The candy will turn unattractively sticky,
The roof will be carried away like Kon Tiki.
The picture is grim but it’s not just the rain.
Another extreme to imagine the strain
A gingerbread house will have to endure:
In drought it will never be very secure.
The merciless sun will be bad for the glaze
And most of the bling such a house displays.
Excessive amount of ginger (so heady)
Will make an experienced ninja unsteady.
And here’s a scenario worthy of dread:
Gazillions out there adore gingerbread.
It’s such a temptation and people are weak.
A gingerbread house? I’ll give it a week.
Of course, it’s already unlivable stuff.
Forget the gazillions – one kid is enough.
Before disagreeing (it’s easy to scoff)
Imagine your house with the door bitten off,
One nibble – and half of the chimney is gone,
Etc, etc – the list can go on.
A gingerbread house is a recipe for
Disaster that’s never been witnessed before.
A home that is sweet is a figure of speech
(It’s equally silly to live in a peach).
A house made of dough is worthy of ban.
December the something.
The Gingerbread Man.
Image: Gingerbread Houses by Karla Gerard