Sense Sonnet - Tickler

Lazy Carder Bee

Mom says we're carder bees becuz
We're s'posed to card (or comb) plant blooms
To get a bunch of fiber fuzz
To build the walls around the rooms
Of what Mom calls the bee all home,
Hidden away in some dull place.
I bee too busy to card (comb).
I tell Mom that I need my space.
I need to fly and not be tied
To a mother's fuzz apron strings.
Mad Mom takes aim at my backside.
So I take off before she stings.

As I buzz off, Mom yells at me,
"You're one worthless son of a bee."