ironing · laundry · poetry

Laundry Haunts Me

Laundry haunts me, 
Taunts me. Gaunt me.
Colours, darks and delicates,
Whites, tights, even hand-knits
All call out for some attention.
The kids do too, I need not mention.

Frazzled, hassled, sleep deprived,
For empty wash baskets I have strived.
But boys like muck and grass-stained knees
And what food leaves no stain ‘cept cheese?
Toddlers tend to spill their juice
And their bowels tend to be loose.

So I’ve resolved to forgo ironing
But stick to washing and to drying
(That which is most urgently required.
A mummy can’t simply be fired).
And I will keep the time I’ve gained
To keep my children entertained.

Friday Frolics

4 thoughts on “Laundry Haunts Me

  1. Well said and in rhyme. I have a very creative friend who gives of her time and talents to others, her iron has cobwebs on it.Which do you think she will be remembered for?

  2. Thanks for visiting, Mummy Fever! Oh dear, that is a lot of people to iron for. Make sure your daughter doesn't get the job of ironing the boys' school shirts, like I sometimes did as a teenager.

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