I forgot

I am about to marry a great man and when you are about to marry a great man it is easy to forget their greatness because it is ever present.
Here is a poem for Colin Ross Culbreth, who gives me foot massages when I ask even though he has herniated discs in his neck, who makes me nap when there is cleaning to be done because he would rather clean himself than to hear me stress, who carries my bags and listens to me whine after I have had too much wine, who puts up with me gyrating to Backstreets back (not as pretty as it sounds) and loves me regardless of it all...

I love you Colin ...and here is my answer

Yes, I'll marry you, my dear,
And here's the reason why;
So I can push you out of bed
When the cats start to cry
And if we hear a knocking
And it's creepy and it's late,
I hand you the torch you see,
And you investigate.

Yes I'll marry you, my dear,
You may not apprehend it,
But when the tumble-drier goes
It's you that has to mend it,
You have to face the neighbour
Should our future dog attack him,
And if a drunkard fondles me
It's you that has to whack him.

Yes, I'll marry you,
You're virile and you're lean,
My house is like a pigsty
You can help to keep it clean.
That sexy little dinner
Which you served by candlelight,
you specialize in potato wedges,
You can cook them every night!

It's you who has to work the most
and put up a curtain track,
And when I've got PMS it's you who gets the flak,
I do see great advantages,
But none of them for you,
And so before you see the light,
I do, I do, I do!