Husbands

Boys will be boys,

And men will be men.

When men become husbands,

They change it seems into something else.

And sometimes not for the better!

Some men wine and dine,

The women they entend to marry.

They give the impression,

That they are very much caring.

Boy, are we ever fooled!

It seems after marriage,

That men become something different.

He no longer goes that extra mile,

Nor does he even open the car door.

What happened to that sweet man you married?

He leaves his underwear,

all over the bedroom floor,

Only a few feet from the hamper.

It doesn't seem to bother him,

If they stay there for a week.

So you pick them up and give him a dirty look!

Next comes the toilet seat,

Left up by him.

In the middle of the night,

You struggle from the bowl.

Supressing a scream of disgust,

You grab a towel to dry your butt.

The bathroom is the same old story,

After he gets through with his daily regimen.

Wet towel on the bathroom rug,

Beard shavings all over the sink,

Toothpaste splatterings on the mirror,

Grungy stuff in the toilet bowl.

You have to hold yourself in tow,

While you make the bathroom clean.

Then you venture into the kitchen,

To find yet another mess from his breakfast.

So before you get that first cup of java,

You put the dishes and pans into the dishwasher.

Next you wipe the crumbs from the toaster and cabinet,

And scrub dried egg from the stove.

You think you're about ready now,

For that cup of coffee.

But you feel something sticky,

Beneath your dainty feet.

You look down and discover,

Grape jelly is all over the floor.

(Did you know that my cat doesn't like grape jelly?)

After the kitchen is back in order,

You head for the coffee pot.

But you're not suprissed at all,

To find the pot is empty.

So you open the frig and get some OJ.

(Oh well, that's better for you anyway)

Now hubby's off to work,

And none too soon.

For your temper has risen,

Beyond sane levels.

Get dressed you must,

For there's laundry to do.

Who said being a housewife,

Wasn't a job, ...anyway?

That's just the beginning,

As you well know.

Next come the kids,

To get ready for school.

But that's another story,

I refuse to get into now.

During the day when everyone is gone,

You think just maybe you can get some rest.

But when you look around,

You realize the carpet needs vacuuming,

And the furniture needs dusting.

The kid's rooms need picking up,

And the cat needs to be fed.

Evening comes and hubby's home,

Grumbling about his day at work.

By the time he changes his clothes,

You've got supper all cooked.

The kids have already eaten,

And gone to their rooms for study.

So hubby eats in the livingroom on a tray,

And watches a program on the TV.

When hubby is done with his supper,

It's burp, belch and fart for 10 minutes.

You take his dishes to the kitchen,

All the time trying not to hate him.

He sits there in his Lazyboy chair,

Watching wrestling on TV,

While you clean the kitchen once more.

Before you know it,

It's 11:00 pm.

The kids were good this time,

And all snug in their beds.

But when you go back to the livingroom,

To turn off the lights,

Hubby is asleep and snoring in his chair.

You shake him awake,

And tell him to go to bed.

To the bedroom he goes,

Shedding all his clothes.

You follow behind him,

Picking up as you go.

By the time you reach the bedroom,

Hubby is in bed snoring as usual.

You deposit his clothes into the hamper,

And you change into an old nightie.

As you get into bed,

He's suddenly awake.

Can you believe it?

He wants a kiss and more!

So you oblige him again,

His lazy kind of moves.

What has happend to that amorous man,

You loved so much on your honeymoon.

All and all you feel it's your fault,

That he's the way he is today.

For you've spoiled him from the beginning,

Just as his mother must've done.

And no matter if you do the same tomorrow,

And the next day,

You loved him when you married him,

And you love him still.

It's just that sometimes,

For a splitting minute,

You feel the need to kill!

(Excerpt)

Not all men are the same,

And I hope to God they're not.

I made my bed,

So my Mom and Dad said.

I suppose I have to live it.

I do love my husband,

As many of you know.

It's just that sometimes,

I wish I was single.

LOL

by Jann Newland