Papa's Dancing Partner

Well, well, well, here's Mama Blooms-Brud. It's about half past 11 at night, and we find Mama and Papa driving along in their car on their way home from a dinner dance and banquet. Mama says, Papa, would you please close the window? I'm getting a little chilly.

Oh, that's my mother. Thank you, Papa. You're welcome, Mama. I say Becky. Becky, watch the matter, you can help me survive. Then there ain't nobody else on the streets. You've got a lot of room and I don't have to help you.

Oh, I see. Am I a feet hood, mama? Mm-hmm. A new feet hood. I said so. How could you think so when they're my feet? I don't have to have your feet to know that they are my feet.

And Jake, in the morning you will have indigestion. No mama, please don't say that. You shouldn't make me think about that. You should have been thinking about a drink when you ate so much and drank the chamois paint.

No, Mommy, you got too many syllables. It's just plain champagne. You got too many glasses full of you. I was having a good time. Yeah, it was having a good time. You look like a gigolo.

A gigolo? I was like a gigolo. Mama, please tell me, is there a law that says I must have a good time? There is no law that says you don't have a good time, but there is something that says you shouldn't make a spectator of yourself.

of yourself. Just later tonight you're starting something I don't understand. Anyway, the word you mean I think is spectacle. The word I meant for a fool. Yeah. F-O-U-L fool. Yeah, you spelled it wrong. I know that I spelled and you was eaten.