A Womens Poem

He didn't like the casserole
And he didn't like my cake.
My biscuits were too hard,
Not like his mother used to make.

I didn't perk the coffee right
He didn't like the stew.
I didn't mend his socks,
The way his mother used to do.

I pondered for an answer
I was looking for a clue.
Then I turned around and smacked him,
Like his Mother used to do.