Boys, unfortunately will be boys.

My lovely wife and I

were out shopping

and dinner time rolled around.

The gut busting bags of shopping

had me sweaty, tired and hungry.

"Where do you want to eat"? said I

gasping to take a breath.

"You’ve been such a good sport,

you can pick", said my sweetie.

 

Hmmm, knowing there was a

very fine eating establishment

nearby, and it was my choice,

I said with all the dignity

I could muster.

"Can we go to Hooters,

please, please, please,

can we, can we, please"?

 

She said, "Fine"

Well, you girls know what that means.



After a delightful meal,

stimulating conversation

and several knuckle rapping

whacks to regain my attention,

she asked me in her best

condescending tone,

"Did the wittle boy have a nice meal’?

God I hate that.

 

But, not to sink to her level,

I answered with my breast tone.

"The service had its peaks and vallys,

but all things considered,

it was a very uplifting lunch.

The double milk shake was like

a mountainous snow

melting in valleys

soothing my hot lips.

The large round burger

whetted my insatiable appetite

merely leaving me craving

the titillating cream filled

satisfaction of my cherry tart.

And the wings were pretty good too".

 

She said, "Fine".

Well, you girls know what that means