There's a time to rhyme

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I like to do a bit of poetry (or as Anna calls it 'poeming') now and again.
 Here is one I wrote a long time ago.

NORTHERN LIFE

We had fried fish today, for tea,

Fresh, from t’chip-shop d’yer see.

I said: I must not eat t'batter,

For t'batter's sure to make me fatter.

Our mother, she did not agree –

And threw t'teapot straight at me!

My dad, he looked up from his paper,

Shouting: Stop this bleedin’ caper,

I’m tryin’ t’do t’crossword, here –

Now go and get me some more beer.

He banged his jug down on t'table,

I ran as fast as I was able,

To the ‘Offy’ down our street,

But coming back I chanced to meet

My girlfriend, Mary Ellen Hickey,

Who said: Oi, Oi, let’s have a quickey.

We did, but when I got back 'ome,

The beer had lost its head of foam.

Luckily, mi dad was out –

Knocked cold by mother’s fearsome clout.

I said: What have you done to dad?

He’s really looking rather sad.

She finished off  t'beer herself,

Replaced t'jug upon t'shelf

And said: Nah lad, no time for strictures –

Get yer cap – we’re off t’pictures.