Grow Up and Be a Man

  My wife brought home a little manHe really doesn't talk very muchHe mostly cries and sucks his thumbAnd he poops a lot and such A lot of times he just stares at meWell, I cant just let him winSo I stare him down, til he's crosseyedWith drool running down his chin He wears this thing called a diaperYou know, like speedos for a little dudeEverytime I tell him to put on some clothesMy wife says, "Quit being rude" He drinks his milk from a bottleI tell him to grow up, and be a manSo I hurry and finish my rootbeerTo show him I can crush a can I told my wife he's not much of a manHe can't even grow a beardThen I caught them playing patty cakesThe one thing that I've always feared So I finally accused my wife of cheatingShe said, "You idiot this is your child"I said, "I knew that, do you think I'm stupid?"She didn't answer, she just sit there and smiled Well, I finally grew accustomed to his faceAnd it just couldn't be any finerAs long as he puts some clothes on And stays out of my recliner