My Husband Is Son Of A... Poem by Jay P Narain

When I ask him, 'Do you really love me'?
He thinks and says, 'Sure I always say 40-love when I play tennis with you'.

Whenever I come home happy after my shopping spree,
He reminds me, 'Honey, Money does not grow on tree'.

Whenever I need some help in household chores,
He reminds me that his work domain is outdoors.

Whenever he works outside the house,
He moans and groans that I forgot my wedding vows.

Whenever I complain of being TV. sports widow during leisure times,
He wants me to be creative and pick up some hobby sometimes.

When the hour of romance comes on the anniversaries,
I expect gifts, flowers, hugs and kisses,
Instead I get a flower from the garden reminding me of my marriage anniversary.

Whenever I am dressed up to go the parties and want him to look sharp,
He comes up with his favorite old shirt and baggie pants.

When I am mad on him for not listening to anything I say,
I think he is a son of a gun, what else I can say.