Like His Mother Used To Do
Posted: Fri Aug 28, 2009 4:28 pmThe original was passed on to me in an e-mail (like, what's new?). Being from a family whose female side is predominantly celtic, I quite well understood the situation (even experienced the results for slightly different cause).
Thus, I provided an edit and an added stanza for the lady who wrote it:
He didn't like my 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 did not mend his socks
The way his mother used to do.
I pondered for an answer,
I was looking for a clue.
I could never be his mother --
Could I do as she used to do?
Thought of his perfect mother
Was the operating que.
So I smacked the crap out of him...
Just like his mother used to do.
Thus, I provided an edit and an added stanza for the lady who wrote it:
He didn't like my 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 did not mend his socks
The way his mother used to do.
I pondered for an answer,
I was looking for a clue.
I could never be his mother --
Could I do as she used to do?
Thought of his perfect mother
Was the operating que.
So I smacked the crap out of him...
Just like his mother used to do.
8-)
