His hands were always grimy
And his house a filthy mess.
If he ever took a bath,
It was anybody’s guess.

He didn’t like to go there,
So Pete, a long time member,
Was put off until the last
And now it was December.

In all his years of preaching,
The one vow that he held dear,
He’d visit each church member
At least one time every year.

He never ate or drank there,
The dishes were never clean.
But each time that he refused,
Made him feel a little mean.

So today he’d drink coffee
And he’d eat a little cake.
“Delicious,” he would tell him,
Even preachers sometimes fake.

He asked how Pete did dishes
‘Cause the cup had lost its sheen.
“Soap and water,” Pete told him,
“And they really get them clean.”

When they finished with their snack,
Pete sat dishes on the floor.
“Come here Water,” he called out
And a cat came through the door.

“That cat’s the soap and water?
You sure don’t mean that, I hope!”
“No, my cat’s name is Water,
My old hound dog’s name is Soap.”