A Women's poem

He didn't like the curry

And he didn't like the 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 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.

Isn't there anything I could do

To match his mothers shoe

Then i smiled as I saw light

One thing I could definately do

I turned around and slapped him tight....

Like his mother used to do!!!!