|
July 2009
My wife is a wildlife carer!
Do you honestly know what that means?
There's simply no time for the cooking,
I'm living on bacon and beans.
My wife is a wildlife carer,
Always mixing with creatures of fame,
While 1 sit at home every evening
Without a clean shirt to my name.
It's not that she isn't domestic;
She can sew, and even make bread.
But when she's thinking of wildlife,
There's no other thought in her head.
There's mealworms again in the cornflakes,
Wombaroo stuck on the bread,
And it isn't entirely unusual
To find a possum tucked up in the bed!
The telephone never stops ringing,
It's a rescue for this and for that,
While 1 sit at home in the evening
Having a serious talk with the cat.
I just cannot cope with the housework.
My books are unread on the shelf.
I think, in sheer desperation,
I might take up caring myself!
Author unknown.
Taken from WIRES Southern Tablelands Branch Newsletter
Issue No. 10 Winter 2009 |
