The Barbecue
Weíre going to have a barbecue,
Itís all my husbandís idea,
Of course heíll be doing the cooking,
He really is a dear.

Iíve sent out the invitations,
The patio Iíve finished mopping,
Iíve got my basket and my money,
Iím off to do the shopping.

The butcher for the sausages,
The burgers and the chicken,
When theyíve eaten everything,
The bones theyíll still be pickiní.

The greengrocer for the salad,
Shall I get radishes? - well perhaps,
The baker next, his breadís so fresh,
For all the rolls and baps.

The deli for the olives and pickles,
Those cheeses look quite nice.
When I get home I mustnít forget
To make sure thereís plenty of ice.

Iíve carried out the tables and chairs,
Put out glasses and plates,
Not forgetting the tankards
For all my husbandís mates.

Iím chopping all the salad,
Putting it in different bowls,
While my husbandís checking the temperature
Of the red-hot smoking coals.

Heís carefully cooking all the meat,
Making sure itís not too brown,
ďDo you think the chickenís done enough?Ē
He asks me with a frown.

Iím serving the salad, pouring the wine,
Keeping the guests amused,
My lord and masterís having fun
Getting rather boozed.

Well, now the eveningís over,
Iíve cleared everything away,
While my best beloved flops into a chair,
Says ďwhat an exhausting day.Ē