The Longest Battle

The prudent man knows when his wife is busy with crochet

Trouble has an invite and there'll soon be hell to pay.

Ev'ry time she hooks the loop and pulls it in a knot

It's your head she's thinkin' on – you're really in a spot!

 If perchance the bacon comes out flabby and quite pale;

The eggs are pretty runny and the toast turns out like shale –

Wisdom dictates swift retreat to some secluded spot

Where you won't be drawn & quartered, or perhaps gut-shot!

When she's talking on the phone and tells you not to stay,

Five'll get you twenty that her mother's on her way.

It may be that late at night you'll hear her scrubbing floors;

Be prepared for typhoons to come blasting at your shores.

It doesn't matter that you've haven't done a blessed thing;

You are in the dog house just as sure as Crosby's Bing.

Any explanation would be too much to expect.

You posses some newly found-out devilish defect.

Do not think a rose bouquet or box of candy treats

Will get you off the hook, my friend – you'd better wear some cleats.

For you'll be running ragged till the cows come home for sure;

She wants to sit and "talk" with you amidst the flying fur.

Now's the time to put a stop to all this folderol.

Now's the time for you to calmly stand up straight and tall.

Now's the time to look right in her angry, blazing eyes.

Now's the time to tell her that you do apologize.