Monday, 1 October 2012

A poem for my husband...

While he was in the shower
getting nice and clean,
I was in the laundry
getting clothes from the machine.

I hung them out to dry, because
today was nice and sunny,
and then came back inside
to wipe a boy’s nose that was runny.

I gave the older kids jobs to complete,
starting with cleaning their room.
Ben finished first, so “Hmm, let’s see;
you can go pick up dog poo”.

I unhooked the couch into pieces
so I could vacuum underneath..
I was disgusted that the things I’d found
had started growing teeth.

Another load went in the wash;
the dog was given some water.
As I heard the shower come to a finish
I gave new tasks to our daughter.

I was eager to show him what we had done
as soon as he was dressed.
He emerged with a brand-new dirty mo’,
and I was unimpressed!

I put him to work almost straight away
patching holes, and building a chair.
Not wanting to look at that patch on his chin
where he’d shaved away his hair.

His many chores completed
did not absolve this shocker.
I thought I’d married Iron Man,
but instead, I’d married Chopper.

Dirty, dirty, dirty...

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