Five months pregnant with my second
When stewardess shrilly beckoned
For trouble I hadn’t reckoned
But suddenly I felt threatened
Baby son was awfully cute
Played by knees of man in suit
When a woman I could shoot
Chose to be none too astute
‘How long do I have to be
Annoyed by your damned baby?’
The seat between the two was free
But still a problem she could see
‘Ask me nicely’ I suggested
As she rudely re-protested
By now my temper had been tested
As eyed her juice and where it rested
‘How dare you call my child a brat?
Apologise or you’ll get splat
With your drink’, I pointed, ‘that’
But she still insisted on a spat
I said, ‘Do not say I didn’t warn’
As violently slung what I’d sworn
But passing by was steward named Shaun
Who received my other half of scorn
As passenger sat dripping wet
Specs smeared and perm in need of set
Poor steward Shaun was left bereft
Very angry, he quickly left
He was sobbing in cabin loo
Was told Miss Bitter would sue
I frowned, then laughed; said ‘wooh hoo,
What for? A bottle of shampoo?’
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