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He didn’t like the curry
And he didn’t like my cake.
He said my biscuits were too hard…
Not like his mother used to make.
I didn’t prepare the coffee right
He didn’t like the snacks,
I didn’t mend his socks
The way his mother used to do.
I pondered for an answer
I was looking for a clue.
Isn’t there anything I could do
To match his mothers shoe.
Then I smiled as I saw light
One thing I could definitely do
I turned around and slapped him tight
Like his mother used to
A husbands Story
A bus full of wives fell into a well and all the women died |
But one man was crying even after two weeks
" Because his wife missed the Bus."
