It’s no go good, no good at all,
The time has come to admit
that housework is a fact of life
I have to face,
It can no longer be put off.
Dust bunnies have grown up
To become tumbleweeds,
The larder is empty,
There is more ice in the freezer than food.
I caught the dog at the back
Of his sleeping hole
Under the scullery work surface
studying his adoption papers;
He’s threatened to leave home.
So that is what I’ve been doing
Instead of visiting and writing blog posts,
Going for pleasant walks.
It’s a crying shame.
Gardening and cooking
I’ll do with pleasure,
But scrubbing floors, polishing furniture,
Are all jobs I hate.
How wonderful, in olden days,
In the town of Cologne,
On the banks of the river Rhine,
Bustling, busy, benevolent little spirits came out
When all the world and his wife
Were fast asleep.
They took care of
Home and hearth,
Built houses, made tables and chairs,
Tilled the fields and picked plums and apples,
Milked the cow and fed the dog,
Made sausages and bacon and ham,
Baked bread, brewed beer and watered the wine.
The kicked the cat, wove the cloth
And stitched the tailor’s stuff.
It was the tailor’s wife
Who did for the good burghers of Cologne,
Who had become used to lying a-bed
And all their work done for them.
She grew ever more curious,
Until she could bear it no longer
And strewed peas about
All over the house one evening.
Alas, the foolish woman.
Softly, softly, out came the Heinzelmannchen
When all in the house were in their bed.
They slipped on the peas,
Clattered and clanged, cried and cursed,
tripped and tumbled, all in a heap.
And were gone in a flash, never to return.
all cartoons borrowed here.