Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Woman's Poem

He didn't like the casserole,
And he didn't like my cake.
He said my biscuits were too hard, not like his mother used to make.
I didn't perk the coffee right; he didn't like the stew.
I didn't mend his socks the way his mother used to do.
I pondered for an answer I was looking for a clue.
Then I turned around and smacked the s#@t out of him...
Like his mother used to do.


Sandee said...

Bwahahahahaha. That will teach him to keep his pie-hole shut.

Have a terrific day Willy. :)

Paul said...

Ouch... that'll definitely show him.