Said I one night to my husband, "Dear,
Don't talk to me or come too near.
My nerves are gone, my patience frayed;
'Twas not one of my better days."
Says he, "Lass, what's come over you?
It's not like you have work to do.
You stay at home both night and day,
And with the babies sing and play."
It would pare down the kindred tree
If Mother Nature did decree that
Men would have babies one and three; then
There'd only be two in each family.
"Play?!?" says I, "What do you mean?
Who is it you think cooks and cleans,
And bears the babies once a year?
Last time I looked, 'twasn't you m'dear."
It would pare down the kindred tree
If Mother Nature did decree that
Men would have babies one and three; then
There'd only be two in each family.
We made a wager he thought he'd win,
He'd take my place…and like most men,
He lasted nary half a day, then begged
Me, "Come home right away."
It would pare down the kindred tree
If Mother Nature did decree that
Men would have babies one and three; then
There'd only be two in each family.
So, men, when your woman's tired and cold,
Just say, "Yes, dear," and don't be bold;
If you don't want to come home to a wife,
With a frying pan and a carving knife.
It would pare down the kindred tree
If Mother Nature did decree that
Men would have babies one and three; then
There'd only be two in each family.
Created: Sunday, 19 October 1997, 8:00pm
Last Updated: Sunday, 19 October 1997, 8:00pm
Page Contents © 1997 by: Gael MacGregor (UNLESS OTHERWISE NOTED)
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