This is a poem that I'm only allowed to read when
over 300 miles from home.
It's one of a series of exam poems
that I've written over the years,
the shortest in this series and it's called Marks.
My husband gives me an A for last night's supper,
an Incomplete for my ironing, a B+ in bed.
My son says I'm average, an average mother.
But if I put my mind to it, I could improve.
My daughter believes in pass fail and tells me I pass.
Wait till they learn I'm dropping out.
[LAUGHTER]
[APPLAUSE]