From the 
archives:
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, and 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 crap out of him
Just like his mother used to do.
archives: 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, and 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 crap out of him
Just like his mother used to do.
2 comments:
Very funny poem Mike, who wrote it ,was it you ?
Oh no, wasn't me. Was in an old email someone sent - I put those things in folders and keep them, just like a pack rat.
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