I Hate Housework

Can you relate to this?

I hate housework

I’m bored of cleaning windows and I’ve had enough of chores,
the endless bouts of washing and the constant sweeping floors.
I have no time for dusting, just let the dust grow thick,
thoughts of cleaning ovens is enough to make me sick!

Why should I vacuum carpets or change the wretched bed,
or wait on fellow humans just waiting to be fed?
What is the point of housework, enslaved to all things clean?
I’m not a scouring goddess or an old spring-cleaning queen.

I hate the word housecleaning, it’s driving me insane,
the drudgery of mopping or cleaning out the drain.
Sorting out the cupboards is just an endless bore,
life is for the living, not working fingers raw!

The prospect of more ironing fills my heart with dread,
I’d rather read a gripping book or drink coffee here instead.
Cleaning toilets is no highpoint, it’s the worse job of the lot.
With my head right down the privy, I think I’ve lost the plot!

I’m off to have a coffee and a chocolate biscuit too,
no thoughts of cleaning bathrooms and scrubbing round the loo.
The bliss and true elation just to sit and have a drink,
no need to wear my apron or scour any sink.

So I’m sipping my hot coffee with a warm cat on my knee,
its civilised and calming, the ideal work for me.
The soothing sounds of purring and the taste of all things fine,
I’ll have another coffee and sit with my feline.

Then stark and true reality takes hold of me again,
the curse of all that housework is eating at my brain.
I must have the cleanest cupboards and the shiniest kitchen floor,
because of Covid lockdown, I can’t go out my door!

Perhaps I’ll have another coffee and find my cat!

Teresa Harrison-Best
© January 2021