I AM the boss of you!
"You're not the boss of me!"
I can still hear that whiny voice.
I'd often thought of killing him,
If I'd only
had the choice.
He wouldn't take out the garbage
Without end-less prompting.
And his personal hygiene habits
The bedroom was a constant mess,
With a lingering smell of farts,
And a collection of back-issues of Playboy
Was the extent
of his taste in the "Arts".
When I asked him if he'd mow the grass,
His response to me was "Kiss my arse,"
Which gives you a little insight
Into the level
of his class.
He'd pick his nose in public,
And scratch publicly in areas pubic,
And his only tangible talent
Was in solving
cube puzzles Rubik.
A monumental waste of space,
He made my life a misery,
Until upon that wonderful day,
I discovered my husband's life insurance policy