After a man has been married awhile, <br />And his wife has grown used to his manner <br />And style, <br />When she knows form the twinkle that lights <br />Up his eye <br />The thoughts he is thinking, the wherefore and <br />Why, <br />And just what he'll say, and just what he'll do, <br />And is sure that he'll make a bad break ere he's <br />Through, <br />She has one little trick that she'll work when <br />She's able- <br />She takes a sly kick at him under the table. <br /> <br />He may fancy the story he's telling is true, <br />Or he's doing the thing which is proper to do; <br />He may fancy he's holding his own with the <br />Rest, <br />The life of the party and right at his best, <br />When quickly he learns to his utter dismay, <br />That he mustn't say what he's just started to say. <br />He is stopped at the place where he hoped to <br />Begin, <br />By his wife, who has taken at kick at his shin. <br /> <br />If he picks the wrong fork for the salad, he <br />Knows, <br />That fact by the feel of his wife's slippered toes. <br />If he's started a bit of untellable news, <br />On the calf of his leg there is planted a bruise. <br />Oh, I wonder sometimes what would happen to <br />Me <br />If the wife were not seated just where she <br />Could be <br />On guard every minute to watch every trick, <br />And keep me in line all the time with her kick.<br /><br />Edgar Albert Guest<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-kick-under-the-table/
