My cruel, grouchy old Mother-In-Law,
is a sight for sore eyes to see;
Save your money at the Circus,
'cause to look at her is free.
She's really not that hideous,
in her very own, special way;
What hair that hasn't fallen out,
has certainly turned gray.
But dare you have to live with her,
she becomes an old Batalax;
Yet she always feels much better,
when she gets her Mustache waxed.
She does have a few, good qualities,
but overall, she's awfully mean;
That's why for Christmas this year,
we bought her Vaseline.
We greased up her 'ole toilet stool,
then we greased it up some more;
She slipped right off, and hit her head,
and her teeth slid under the door.
She didn't care for that at all,
no sir, not one little bit;
For when she fell, her wig flew off,
and she cut her bottom lip.
But I guess we're cruel to her as well,
for we never allow her to date;
When night time comes, we lock her up,
'lest Bigfoot wants to mate.
I could go on for days on end,
about how bad she's been;
But now I have to stop right here,
'cause there's no ink left in my pen!
This is my Mother-In-Law's favorite poem I wrote about her. She carries a copy in her purse, and reads it to strangers. Lots of love Mom.