A 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 shit out of him...
Like his MOMMA used to do.
posted by Azgreeneyes at
5:14 PM
2 Comments:
Neat poem, how are things with you, are you getting 'life' sorted out?
Best regards
Dave
By
Paste, At
3:15 AM
Too bad it's not legal to do that to your kids like our momma's used to do!!!
By
ticklemepink, At
2:01 PM
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