Annie MacBride from number eighteen,
were a legend, as well as 'er Sid.
They'd only been married ten years there abouts,
but they'd got 'em an 'ouseful o' kids.
First come the twins an' the triplets,
then Doris an' 'Arry an' Flo.
Jimmy an' Dan, not forgettin' young Sam,
Vera an' Nora an' Joe.
Well, it were such a small 'ouse were Annie an' Sids,
that they struggled t' fit 'em all in.
So the twins 'ad t' sleep in the privy,
while Sam, 'e made do wi' the bin.
"We daren't 'ave no more," said Annie t' Sid,
"even t' budgie's flew off in a rage."
"Now that could be 'andy," said Sid with a grin,
"d' yer think smallest'll fit in its cage?"
Then one day in t' back yard, she were talkin' t' Jessie,
'er mate from just over the back.
An' quite casually, she just sort o' mentioned.
" 'Ow d' yer go on then, yer know wi' your Jack?"
Well, Jessie jus' looked, she said. "What d' yer mean?"
She said. "Yer know, when 'e's starts t' get frisky."
"Yer mean sex?" Jessie said, Annie nodded 'er 'ead.
"The rhythm method," Jess said, "but it's risky."
She didn't want t' look thick, but she 'adn't a clue,
about the rhythm, or jus' what it did.
So she jus' said. "Oh aye, I might give it a try,
if it'll stop us from 'avin' more kids."
It were that night after supper, Sid give 'er the eye,
"Are yer tired love? Are yer ready f' bed?"
She said, " 'ang on a tick, Jessie's taught us a trick,
but carry t' gramophone up first though." She said.
Now the gramophone were one o' them big uns,
with an 'orn stickin' out o' the top.
Wound up with an 'andle, a bit like a mangle,
Sid looked, an' 'e jus' said. "Yer what?"
She said. "When yer've done, then come on back down,
an' yer can 'elp us to sort out some discs.
I want summat with umption, maybe Tuxedo Junction,
more cha cha, or samba, not Litz."
Well Sid really struggled t' get the gram' up the stairs,
while Annie sorted records in t' room.
There was Gershwin, Glen Miller, Billy Cotton an' them,
but she settled on t' Platters, Blue Moon.
Then jus' t' make sure that she'd got enough rhythm,
she thought that she'd best take another.
An' she picked up this one by Edmundo Ross,
but as it 'appened, she needn't o' bothered.
Cos there on the bed, flat out t' the world,
were Sid, fair drivin' 'em 'ome.
So she gave 'im a nudge, an' Sid barely budged,
"Bugger off," 'e said, "leave us alone."
She were yackin' again t' Jessie at t' back,
she said. "It's great is that ol' rhythm method.
It's fair worked a treat, knocked 'im right off 'is feet,
an' I didn't even play 'im a record."
