Valentine Poems to Avoid Sending Your Pregnant WifeJohn Cave Osborne
I’m pretty smooth, y’all. And that’s just a little heads up for your convenience. If you doubt me? So be it, but you need do little more than meet my wife to figure out that there must be some truth to my assertion.
Okay, no there’s not. I’m a complete oaf. And that’s the only reason why I got as lucky as I did in landing such a lovely bride. Because my wife feels sorry for me. Are you happy? I’m constantly calling people by the wrong name (like 5 times in a row with game-show-host confidence, to boot), confusing things and forgetting birthdays. But even I’m not clumsy enough to send the following Valentine poems to my pregnant wife.
Remember the time when we dropped the hamma
Right there at halftime of UT and Bama?
Who’da thought that our SEC lovin’
Woulda delivered a bun in the oven?
I know that this pregnancy’s taking a toll
But, honey you really don’t look like a troll.
I know you feel big and fat like a pig.
But all that has changed are your boobs. Which are BIG.
Here’s one, however, that is okay to send her.
You joke ’bout the belly that’s starting to grow.
You worry your attitude’s starting to show.
You wonder why I don’t run for the hills.
Alimony! DUH. It’d double my bills.
Oh, wait. You actually can’t send that one. But you can send this one. I promise. It’s the one I wrote for my wife last time she was pregnant with triplets.
Nothing’s bigger than the sea,
Except the love inside of me,
For both my girls, for my family,
Which soon will be increased by three.
I need to come up with one for this year. I think I’ll stay away from ones that use oven as a metaphor.
For all you ladies out there who are pregnant, a sincere Happy Valentine’s Day to you! This time around, you’re more beautiful than ever. Particularly you, Caroline. I love you!