National Mother In Law Day

I held in my farts like I had with your daughter.

My butt lay as silent as a lamb before slaughter.

Yet you spoiled what was once an unblemished streak.

And made me force out something that surely would reek.

Damn you for making me not want to be rude.

And letting me eat what, once in my stomach, would eventually brood.

You ignored your husband when he suggested ventilation.

In a room most adjacent to one of congregation.

Now your attendees will have to walk past.

A guest bathroom still reeling from my excrement laced blast.