If I have to wash one more dish…

If I have to wash one more dish,

Or pan, or plate, or tree of mugs,

I’m going to have to switch my wine to something stronger,

I mean vodka, of course (not drugs).

If I have to sweep up one more crumb,

Or raisin, or cheerio, or forgotten piece of toast,

I’m going into hibernation,

Which will make such a difference to my jam-packed social calendar, obviously, almost.

Should I just let our house descend into squalor?

Would it be any different from its current state?

I’d like to think of course it would! Yes!

But as the last time I hoovered was four days ago, I’m probably a bit late.

There must be more to adulting than cooking, washing, cleaning,

I thought I’d be eating cake for breakfast and embarking on a daily Netflix binge,

But alas, there’s little time after all the daily tasks,

And don’t get me started on the lack of cake, I wouldn’t like to whinge.

The bits in between; the cuddling, laughing, playing,

They are the gems of adult life,

They drag me out of bed in the morning,

And make me feel like a person, as well as a housewife.

I’ll be over it tomorrow, a glass of wine tonight will do its job,

A cleaner won’t appear, no matter how hard I wish,

I’ll cook and clean for my family with love and no complaints,

Just don’t make me wash another dish.

 

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