Before you walk out, I have a few tiny tasks!

YOU’RE leaving me. So this is how it ends. I really should have listened to my friends Who told me what an idiot I was. I took no notice. Well, because, because . . . But just before you go, perhaps you could Bring in some coal — the forecast’s not too good. You’re leaving me. You’re giving up your life With me, your patient and longsuff’ring wife Who never mentions your expanding belly; Puts up with all that football on the telly. And so, perhaps, before you leave me flat, Could you de-flea the dog and worm the cat? You’re leaving me. You’re going to go away. You say there’s nothing here to make you stay. What ruddy cheek! When ev’rything I do Revolves round staying glamorous for you! And so, you stupid prat, I really think, Before you leave, you could unblock the sink. You’re leaving me. That’s all the thanks I get For all the food I’ve cooked for you, my pet. The chicken nuggets and Fray Bentos pies — I pamper you more than you realise. So, just before you do your moonlight flit, The washing-up is piling up a bit. You’re leaving me. Don’t have a blinkin’ clue The time and effort I put in for you. I pour a gin for you each night at seven. (Most men would think they’d died and gone to heaven!) But fine. You go. But just before you do, A pipe is leaking in the downstairs loo. You’re leaving me. How selfish and unkind! What devious plans have you got in your mind? You don’t think I will cope from day to day — Well, that is where you’re wrong. But, by the way, There’s something nasty in the outside drain And the big freezer’s icing up again. You’re leaving me. Well, go on. There’s the door! I don’t know what the fuss and bother’s for. Just go. I’ve got a million things to do. (The fun I’ll have when I’ve got shot of you!) Unless .. . you want to try just one more time? OK. It’s your loss, matey-boy, not mine!

Mary Druce, Mullion, Cornwall.