HIS SENSE OF HUMOR

Perhaps in some respects it's true

That you resemble dad;

To be informed I look like you

Would never make me mad.

But one thing I am sure of, son,

You have a different line

Of humor, your idea of fun

Is not a bit like mine.

You drop my slippers in the sink

And leave them there to soak.

That's very laughable, you think

But I can n't see the joke

You take my hat outdoors with you

And fill it full of earth;

You seem to think that's witty, too,

But I'm not moved to mirth.

You open up the chicken-yard;

Its inmates run a mile;

You giggle, but I find it hard

To force one-half a smile.

No, kid, I fear your funny stuff,

Though funny it may be,

Is not quite delicate enough

To make a hit with me.