QUAIL IN JAIL!

Boy!  I'll tell you, some people do
Really have it made!
A person to light your cigarettes,
And do things for you, like your 'Valet'!
 
They turn lights on and off for you,
And even open your mail.
But the part that I have trouble getting over
Is your having 'Quail-In-Jail'!
 
I've only tasted quail once,
Someone else footed the bill...
Tell you what, they'll spoil you boy!
You're getting to be quite a pill!
 
You want something...they HURRY right in,
Just like a mother hen.
They RUSH around, for a simple request:
Even when you want a PEN!
 
'Quail in Jail'...if that don't beat all!
No telling what they'll think of next.
All this attention you're getting lately
Has me quite perplexed!
 
I'm wondering now if they'll spoil you
So that when you DO come home,
I'll not be able to satisfy you?
Guess you'll have to settle for this poem!
 
Well Son, I'll catch you later,
Since I can't come up with your bail.
But doggone you!  Keep ME in mind,
Next time you have 'Quail In Jail'!
 
                         God Bless You!,
                              Dad
                             6-3-81

(We've ALL made a bad choice at least once.  My son did and was 'paying the price' when I wrote this poem)

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