Like his mother used to do

Woman's Poem ©Unknown
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 and smacked the shit out of him;
Like his mother used to do.
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I love a good poem, don't you?