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An 'ickle poem

ProfilePosted byOptionsPost Date

AnnCardiff

AnnCardiff Report 28 Apr 2013 19:34





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 him one
>
> Like his mother used to do.
> ******************************************
> I love a good poem, don't you?!?!

Barbinsglos

Barbinsglos Report 28 Apr 2013 19:38

:-D :-D :-D :-D :-

Mersey

Mersey Report 28 Apr 2013 19:39

:-D :-D :-D

ZZzzz

ZZzzz Report 28 Apr 2013 19:39

Love it. made me laugh out loud

MotownGal

MotownGal Report 28 Apr 2013 19:42

A friend of mine's husband used to moan her custard did not taste like his mothers'.

She tried all sorts, powder, instant, tinned and even 'proper custard' made from scratch. Nothing was ever right.

Until one day she was making the custard and was called to the phone. The custard burned at the bottom of the pan. Nevertheless she served it up.

Guess what? It tasted exactly the same as his mothers' that day!!!!!

She smiled and said nothing.

:-D :-D :-D :-D :-D :-D :-D

AnnCardiff

AnnCardiff Report 28 Apr 2013 21:39

:-D :-D :-D