She’s not my mother

[Capt Morgan]

She’s not my mother she’s my wife
So how come I’m expected to pamper to her every whim today?

Now last night we had such fun with our unexpected guests
The hours ticked by like seconds as the stories of times past were
recalled and everyone was brought up to date on what we had been
up to since we last met. Eventually at about 5am it was decided that we
were fully updated on each other and it was called a night.

For some strange reason my wife (the one that’s not my mother)
thinks that as part of catering to the whims I have to make the dinner.
Although this task may be difficult after so little sleep I still wanted to
keep my wife (the one that’s not my mother) happy as she lies in and catches
up with her beauty sleep.
So with good intensions I opened the fridge door to get the chicken but it seems
it must be a mother also, as it shouted at me “Turn the light off I’m trying to sleep”
Well I thought I’ll let it have a lie in for a bit and get the rest of the dinner prepared.
The only trouble was that when I looked at the potatoes they looked so peaceful
in there little soil pyjamas that I felt the need to let them have a lie in to.
It hardly seemed right to upset the sleeping carrots as they lay huddled together
head to toe. That just left the sprouts, we all know that not a lot of people like
sprouts and if you try to waken a bunch of them you will know why. The abuse
I received was to much to take so I just let the little green balls role over and go
back to sleep.

I hope you can now see that I did try to make mothers day special for
my wife (the one that’s not my mother) but the odds were stacked against me.