What do you do when you've wedded a girl all legal and lawful,
And she goes around saying she looks awful?
When she makes deprecatory remarks about her format,
And claims that her hair looks like a doormat?
When she swears that the complexion of which you are so fond
Looks like the bottom of a dried-up pond?
When she for whom your affection is not the least like Plato's
Compares her waist to a badly tied sack of potatoes?
When she thinks that every hour is the hour at which avoir-dupois begins,
And keeps discovering nonexistent double and triple chins?
Oh, who wouldn't rather be on a flimsy bridge with a hungry lion at one     
    end and a hungry tiger at the other end and hungry crocodiles 
    underneath
Than confronted by their dearest making remarks about her own appear
    ance through clenched teeth?
Why won't they believe that the reason they find themselves the mother 
    of your children is because you think of all the looks in the world, 
    their looks are the nicest?
Why must we continue to be thus constantly ordealed and crisised?
I think it high time these hoity-toity ladies were made to realize that 
    when they impugn their face and their ankles and their waist
They are thereby insultingly impugning their tasteful husbands' impec
    cable taste.