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WHEN I’M AN OLD LADY (many happy returns)

When I’m an old lady, I’ll live with my son,
To look after his mum is sure to be fun,
The joy it brings him, will thrill him to find,
He is able to share his home and be kind.

Of course I‘ll expect to live there rent free,
The same as he did when living with me.
I’ll raid the fridge, leave a mess of ice-cream,
Sneaking his chocolate, Cadbury’s white Dream.

I’ll go out with friends and party till morning,
Only come home when a new day is dawning.
After showering, I’ll leave clothes on the floor,
No one will see them, behind the closed door.

If sometimes I’m told to tidy my room,
Pick up my clothes and try using a broom,
I’ll hide everything, way under the bed,
After that effort, play loud music instead.

Whenever my friends come home with me,
I’ll suggest they all stay and have tea;
My son’s wife won’t mind, may give me a look,
I’ll prime them to tell her she’s a great cook.

His car I will use on Saturday and Sunday,
I’m sure he won’t mind, he can use it on Monday.
Not bothering to buy any petrol you see,
I’m always broke he has more money than me.

If I need extra dollars, I’ll borrow from my son,
Knowing he loves helping his kind loving mum.
I’ll forget to return it, may only be about twenty,
I doubt he would miss it, I know he has plenty.

I’ll hog the TV, by hiding the remote,
Then watch all my soapies, and silently gloat.
My son thinks he’s much smarter than me,
But I’ve been around a lot longer than he!

When I feel tired and fall asleep in my chair,
With mouth opened wide, and tussled grey hair,
I’m sure he’ll look at me with eyes almost weeping,
Thinking how peaceful it is when I’m sleeping.

…when I’m an old lady and live with my son.

Copyright © Vivien Wade  1989
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