Jan 24, 2010

A Mothers 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 and
smacked the shit out of him...

Like his mother used to do.

15 comments:

  1. You know, your tender posts like this bring a tear to my eye every time.

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  2. Very heartwarming. I think I shed a tear even. ;-)

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  3. The little bastard had it coming too!

    I'm glad to see you've decided to stick around old friend. I would have missed you something awful if you had chucked your blog.

    Doc

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  4. I laughed . . . . I cried . . and must see!!

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  5. My Ex once complained about a meal I made and I grabbed it out from under his nose and dumped it down the garbage disposal. And let him know that comments were unwelcome. I only had to do it once.

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  6. Funny, Chris, funny.
    Glad you're still here.

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  7. Anonymous2:02 AM

    You go, Pop and Ice. I like your style. I've been known to throw small appliances.

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  8. Reminded me of my ex-boyfriend..thanks!I needed a good laugh this morning.

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  9. That sounds like the perfect response to him. Like I used to always say to my ex, if you want something done right, maybe you should just do it yourself...

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  10. Aww, what a sweet little ditty!

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  11. Hmm.

    Interesting.

    *lost in deep thought*

    Perhaps this is why my first marriage failed, because I never screamed "FETCH A SWITCH!!!!" and beat his ass with it every time he was a shit just like his dear mama used to.

    Good point.

    It's not too late to start beating him now though, right? I mean, I have like 15 years worth to make up for. The sooner I get started, the better. (MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!)

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