Ok, so I have a confession to make: domesticity does not come naturally to me. I really don’t know how anybody coped in the days before domestic appliances, but to be completely honest, even they terrify me. My last washing machine broke in spectacular fashion (cue deafening noise and sparks), and ever since then I can’t stand to be in the kitchen when it’s in its spin cycle. You see, clutter doesn’t bother me, and because it doesn’t bother me, I don’t tend to see it. I know it drives others to distraction, but my mind is so full of other things that, by the end of a day spent, reading, blogging, writing, helping out the kids with whatever project they’re working on next, the washing is unwashed, the meat for dinner still frozen, the floors unhoovered, and the bin overflowing. Have I painted a vivid enough picture for you? So, when I came across this poem, it reminded me of why it’s sometimes a good thing to be domestically challenged, as I will never suffer in the same way as the “tired housewife”!
On A Tired Housewife – Anonymous
Here lies a poor woman who was always tired,
She lived in a house where help wasn’t hired:
Her last words on earth were: ‘Dear friends, I am going
To where there’s no cooking, or washing, or sewing,
For everything there is exact to my wishes,
For where they don’t eat there’s no washing of dishes.
I’ll be where loud anthems will always be ringing,
But having no voice I’ll be quit of the singing.
Don’t mourn for me now, don’t mourn for me never,
I am going to do nothing for ever and ever.