by Tom Foster
I work all day on Monday, and stop at the pub before home. I buy a pint and drink ‘er down, and then homeward I do roam. The kids’re screaming dinner’s cold and so’s the wife or so I’m told.
Work again on Tuesday, and the pub after closing up. I get my pint and drink ‘er down before I’m settling up. Kids’re playing dinner’s cooling and for the wife I’m lusting, drooling.
Halfway through on Wednesday and I step up to the bar. I grab that first pint knock it down for me that’s just subpar. Kids are sleeping dinner’s warm and so’s the wife under my arm.
Getting closer on a Thursday and I’m striding in the door. Two pints later and a shot and I’m looking at the floor. Kids are snoozing dinner’s hot and the wife is showing me what she’s got.
Friday’s here so where’s my beer as I step into the room. The kids are good and dinner’s great and then my wife tells me she’s late.
-Inspired by the “Seven Drunken Nights” by the Dubliners