He criticized her pudding.
He didn’t like her cake.
He wished that she’d make biscuits Like mother used to make.
She didn’t wash the dishes.
She didn’t make a stew.
She didn’t darn his socks Like mother used to do.
So when he went one day
The same old rigmarole thru
She turned and boxed his ears
Just like mother used to do!
-George V. Kottwitz
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