When I'm An Old Lady

by Mary Ann Hopkins

When I'm an old lady, I'll live with my son,

And make his life happy and filled with such fun.

I want to pay him back all the joy he's provided,

Returning each deed. Oh, he'll be so excited!

. . .when I'm an old lady and live with my son,

I'll write on the walls with red, white & blue and

Bounce on the furniture, wearing my shoes.

I'll drink from the carton and then leave it out.

I'll stuff all the toilets, and oh, will he shout!

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

When he's on the phone and just out of reach,

I'll get into things like sugar and bleach.

Oh, he'll snap his fingers and then shake his head,

And when he is done, I'll hide under the bed.

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

When my son's wife cooks dinner and calls me to meals,

I'll not eat my green beans or salads congeal.

I'll gag on my okra, spill milk on the table,

And when she gets angry, run fast as I'm able.

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

I'll sit close to the TV, thru the channels I'll click.

I'll cross both my eyes to see if they stick.

I'll take off my socks and throw one away

And play in the mud 'til the end of the day.

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

And later, in bed, I'll lay back and sigh

And thank God in prayer and then close my eyes.

And my son will look down with a smile slowly creeping

And say with a groan, "she's so sweet when she's sleeping."

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

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