I said, "But I don't want to wear a tie with Valentines,"
With my usual mid-February pout;
"The food is better here, and I don’t have to wait in lines."
She grabbed me by the tie and dragged me out.
"Now dear," she said, "it's once a year I take you out to eat.
The food is always ample and delicious;
The company is fun, the entertainment is a treat—
And YOU don't have to wash up all the dishes."
On hearing that, she didn’t need to make another peep;
I followed like a lamb led to the slaughter.
She’d found a way to get around the fact that I’m so cheap:
A promise that I’d stay out of hot water.
—Anon A. Mouse