DEAR FUTURE MISSUS
Tune: “Dear Future Husband”
Dear future missus
Here’s a few things
You’ll need to know if
You wanna be the lucky lady
Who’s my wife
Make my dinner plate
Don’t you serve it late
And don’t forget the peppers every time it’s taco day
‘Cause if you feed me well
Then I will think you’re swell
Cookin’ what I like
Cook, cookin’ like a wife
You like to give commands
But I’m no handyman
So don’t be thinkin’ I’ll be good at fixin’ backed-up pipes
I never learned to plumb
It doesn’t mean I’m dumb
Don’t be naggin’ me
Don’t, don’t be naggin’ me
You gotta know how to treat me like your mister
I’m not your little sister
Tell me I’m your shining knight
Dear future missus
Here’s a few things
You’ll need to know if
You wanna be the lucky lady
Who’s my wife
Dear future missus
If you wanna get those special kisses
Show me you’re dutiful each and every night
If I leave a mess
Baby, don’t you stress
And don’t you ever ask me if you look fat in that dress
And if I leave a sock
Oh, don’t go into shock
Just pick it up
Just, just pick it up
You gotta know how to treat me like your mister
I’m not your little sister
Tell me I’m your shining knight
Dear future missus
Here’s a few things
You’ll need to know if
You wanna be the lucky lady
Who’s my wife (hey, baby)
Dear future missus
Make room for me
Don’t give me trouble
Like when I’m smokin’ stogies out back with the guys
I’ll be sittin’ in my man-cave for the game
Open beers for me and you might get some kisses
Don’t even interrupt
We’re talkin’ Stanley Cup
Bring me a beer
Bring, bring me a beer
You gotta know how to treat me like your mister
I’m not your little sister
Tell me I’m your shining knight
Dear future missus
Here’s a few things
You’ll need to know if
You wanna be the lucky lady
Who’s my wife
Dear future missus
If you wanna get those special kisses
Show me you’re dutiful each and every night
Future missus, just say that I’m right
Put another log on the fire
Cook me up some bacon and some beans
And go out to the car and change the tire
Wash my socks and sew my old blue jeans
Come on, baby, you can fill my pipe
And then go fetch my slippers
And boil me up another pot of tea
Then put another log on the fire, babe
And come and tell me why you’re leaving me
Could we at least have a photo of yourself before we adhere to these rulings? I go over to the Free Republic page on Facebook and to be perfectly frank, I haven’t seen any male either young, good-looking or particularly in shape when they bloviat—I mean, post...
(For those who don’t do Facebook, all posts have photos attached.)
Perhaps you’re not on Facebook?