He didn't like the casseroleAnd 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.
5 comments:
HMMMM how true is that!
I can relate to this kind of man. Because I could not live up to the way his mother did things, I was out of there because I got tired of being compared to his mother (I was 35 at the time)! He was a control freak, very insecure and intimidated that I was able to take care of my self and support myself! This poem is so true! Just wish I could have smacked the .... out of him but then he would have called his local good ole boy lawyer and had me charged! Glad I am away from him.....
8:57 ... Thank you for sharing that moving story, there is nothing more theraputic than telling strangers your life story anonymously. There is a psychologist that "makes more money in a week than you make in a year" that posts on here from time to time - maybe he/she will read your sad ramblings and offer a free consultation.
9:50
Im sure there are help groups for people like you.
8:57 Wow this sound familiar except the one I know had a mother who liked to live in a pig sty. It usually goes one way or the other. Did he scrub out the toilet each time he took a crap too? If so, he had problems in the anal phase of potty training or he was reprimanded for going on himself, therefore, he never feels clean enough now and has to overcompensate by making other people look bad so he can hide his insecurities.
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