I lift the cookpot carefully
I steady me with four and three
I place it on a heat cozy
Then go back for a spoon.

I rustle now through every drawer
Employing one, two, three and four
What happened to the forks I stored?
I think I'll buy more soon.

I hold a book with three and two
And with one hand I eat my stew
My fourth can't find a thing to do
So it just lays beside.

The humans are peculiar
To have two hands where we have four
We bugs are jealous, to be sure!
We can't use less; we've tried.