So, I broke your special wine glass.
And, when ironing scorched your shirt.
There\'s too much salt in the potatoes,
Rinsed the lettuce, left some dirt.
Oh, the sheets upon the bed,
Weren\'t smooth and without wrinkles.
The cupcakes I made your friends,
Not enough of your favorite sprinkles.
And, when I asked, you allowed,
For the day to borrow your car.
You complained I left the driver\'s seat,
Pushed way back, way too far.
My car that day in the shop,
In need of some repair.
That was only because,
Errands for you are everywhere.
So, for me the mistakes I make,
Of which I\'m apprehensive.
Probable to occur more often,
Do more means greater percentage.
The only way to fix this,
Is to do little, leave a mess.
No more broken glasses,
A lot less tidy, I guess.
I rather keep things neat,
I\'ve never been a slob.
Keeping the place spiffy,
Is something I really love.
So, I\'ll try to be more careful,
It is of you I\'m so fond.
To say I\'ll not again mess up,
It is probable I\'d be wrong.