It’s no fun to go out shopping

And tag along behind

The wife, no doubt, who’s leading
To see what she can find.

It took, it seems, but moments

Before a shiny dress caught her eyes.

But next, the obvious question – 

Did they have it in her size?

It was something of a posh shop,

Words like ‘Madam’ filled the air.

My mind uttered ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’,

I’d prefer, of course, to not be here.

So in and out of changing rooms

Just like a fashion show.

‘What do you think? Is this the one?’

How am I supposed to know!?!

And speaking of changing rooms,

They need revolving doors,

The ladies parade and saunter. 

But I hold back my applause.

As the search was widened,

I wore my painted-on smile.

Since in and out of dress shops

Is really not my style.

There’s one aspect of ‘selection’

Which I truly prefer to miss.

It’s that one eternal question – 

‘Does my bum look big in this?’

The cause was someone’s party,

(Or, simply, my idea of no fun)

It was costing me a fortune – 

My wallet was just about done!

After trailing round numerous shops

I tried hard not to grin. 

She finally settled for the dress – 

From the first shop we’d been in!