Dish Diva
Dish Diva
My sink-full of dishes’s
got an attitude
like a teenager who
insists on wearing
pajama pants to school.
I, a tired and aged mother,
Barricade the door,
Robed in fluff and armed with
a wooden spoon:
“Back, back I say!
And don’t come out
Until you look presentable”
The exertion fatigues me so
I collapse, and that sink-full
Of dishes walks diva like right on
Over me, ready to carry on with her
Monday.