Chores. Oh, chores.
When you’re five,
they’re 20 minute requirements here and there.
You don’t see what goes into a home, if you care.
When you’re twenty, you’re on your own,
but with 1 person’s mess, there’s no need to moan.
When you’re married, there’s two.
Twice the mess, so the chores go to who?
That’s the question, not easy to answer.
I could be submissive wife and say, “Yes, sir!”
Or argue my case and say “You help, too!”
This is what I want, this much is true.
But most of the time I don’t mind doing it,
because the gender role just seems to fit.
I want things clean now, and you don’t mind,
so I can be the one to find…
the dust mitt
the paper towels (so many paper towels)
…but you still clean the cars, okay?