A Poem for the Girls

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 sh#t out of him....

Like his mother used to do