You, my love, are something rare,
With lovely eyes and silky hair.
And though you sometimes burn the toast,
It’s you, my darling, I love the most.
I love you more than my air fryer,
Though sometimes it’s a close-run thing.
You are my heart’s eternal fire,
My queen, my love, my everything.
And if the house were burning down,
I’d save you first, my precious flower.
But could you grab the fryer, dear?
It’s covered for another year.
You caught me whispering one night,
“Your chips are simply out of sight.”
You said, “You never talk to me
With quite that much sincerity.”
I said, “It’s merely stainless steel,
It cannot love, it cannot feel.
It doesn’t laugh or shed a tear,
Or whisper sweet nothings in my ear.”
Now love is built on give and take,
On tenderness and birthday cake.
On holding hands through joy and strife,
And sharing all the chips of life.
And when we’re old and turning grey,
And all our youthful charms decay,
I’ll hold your hand beside the fire,
And promise to unplug the fryer.
But should you leave me, heaven forbid,
I’ll sit beside its plastic lid,
And whisper through my falling tears,
“You’ve never failed me all these years.”
So take my hand, my love, my dear,
We’ll share our love through thick and thin.
And if you really love me too…
Please put the frozen chips back in.
