|‘Twas three days before the big bazaar |
And all through our place
Not a surface was clean
Not even a plate.
The counter was buried in felt, rhinestones, and glue guns
The island was covered with card-making supplies
Things like markers, paper, stamps and embossers
The ping-pong table was hidden from our eyes.
The laundry sat forgotten, overflowing the hamper.
The dishes? They were piled high next to the sink.
Bathrooms were off-limits to drop-in visitors
The floor was spotted with a mysterious ink.
I sat, exhausted, with burned finger tips
Thought to myself, why, oh why, am I doing this?!
I pictured next year. Would I do this again?
And answered: Yes, with a housekeeper, it’ll be a cinch!
(Written when I should have been cleaning!) -Katie